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THE 






AMERICAN PULPIT 



SKETCHES, 



BIOGRAPHICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE, 



OF 



LIVING AMERICAN PREACHERS, 

AND OK 

THE KELIGIOUS MOVEMENTS AND DISTINCTIVE IDEAS 
WHICH THEY REPRESENT. 



BY HENEY FOWLER, 

PROFESSOR OF POLITICAL ECONOMY AT THE UNIVERSITY OF ROCHESTER. 



SRity $)0ttntiis 0it Stttl 



NEW YORK: 

J. M. FAIRCHILD & CO., 109 NASSAU-STREET. 

BOSTON: — CROSBY, NICHOLS & CO. 

LONDON :— SAMPSON LOW, SON & CO. 
1856. 





ZBTt>56<? 

• r 7 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S56, 

By HENET FOWLEE, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 
District of New York. 



R. C. VALENTINE, J0HN A# GRAT) 

STEEEOTYPER AND ELECTBOTYPIST, PRINTER, 

17 Dutch-st., cor. Fulton, N. Y. 16 & 18 Jacob-street, N. Y. 



I DEDICATE THIS BOOK 



%bj$t Jfrunirs 



HOSE GENEROUS CONVERSATIONS WEBB 



THE SUMMER RAIN TO ITS ROOTS 



TIIEIR GENIAL INTEREST 



THE SUNSHINE TO ITS LEAVES. 



He who begins by loving Christianity better than truth, will 
proceed by loving his own sect or church better than Christianity, 
and end in loving himself better than all. — Coleridge. 



PREFACE. 



Carlyle, in his Life of John Sterling, says, "I have 
remarked that a true delineation of the smallest man, and 
his scene of pilgrimage through life, is capable of interesting 
the greatest man ; that all men are, to an unspeakable de- 
gree, brothers — each man's life a strange semblance of every 
man's, and that human portraits, faithfully drawn, are of all 
things the welcomest on human walls." 

A kindred feeling was the first impulse to these sketches. 
A second, more serious, was a desire to portray, through 
living examples, the characteristics of the American Pulpit, 
and some of the distinctive features of American churches. 
This has determined the selection. Representative men, 
who are mostly prominent men, have been chosen, repre- 
senting not only denominations, but religious movements 
and practical ideas, principles and facts. 

There has also been a purpose in these biographies — more 
than to gratify curiosity or exalt individuals — born out of 
a hope to promote Christian Union by grouping diverse 
Christian views. If we could all "see eye to eye," we 
should less contend "hand to hand." 

Several sketches are reluctantly omitted, from the matter- 
of-fact necessity which the limits of one volume impose. 



6 PREFACE. 

Several eloquent preachers are not mentioned, because 
preaching is with them occasional and secondary. 

The author must ask consideration for the peculiar deli- 
cacy of his task, as a discussion of living men and present 
religious movements. He has striven to be controlled by 
principles of good taste and of a universal Christian senti- 
ment, without sacrificing the interest of minute personal 
narrative or a journalistic style. 

With the resolve to avoid protruding his own denomi- 
national preferences, he has sought to identify himself, for 
the time being, with each movement described and each 
person portrayed, esteeming the expression of his private 
views as of no account in comparison with a fair statement 
of the views of others. 

Effort has also been made to avoid eulogy, which lay in 
the path of a naturally keen enjoyment of pulpit oratory, 
increased by indulgence. 

Those familiar with the periodical literature of the last 
eight years may recognize, in portions of some of the 
sketches, old acquaintances. As in volumes of poetry, a 
few of " the earlier pieces " are included. 

In conclusion, the author feels that he will be warranted 

in uniting the thanks of his readers, with his own, to those 

who have kindly contributed the sketches of Dr. Storrs 

and of Dr. Hawks, and parts of the sketches of Dr. Cheever 

and of Dr. "Williams. 

H. F. 

University of Kochester, New York, April, 1856. 



CONTENTS. 



EDWARD NORMS KIRK, D.D. (with portrait), . 11-48 
Early Life, 11 — Conversion, 13 — Becomes a Preacher, 15 — First extem- 
pore Sermon, 17— Life at Albany, 19-22— Farewell Sermon, 23-32— 
Free Church movement, 33-39— Rev. Charles G-. Finney, 37 — "Aunt 
Dinah," 40— Revivals of 1840, 42— Residence at Boston, 44— Criticism. 
45 — Personal description, 47 . 

CHESTER DEWEY, D.D., LL.D., .... 49-70 
The True Teacher, 50— Childhood, 52— College life, 53— Stockbridge, 55 
— Williams College, 56 — Anecdote of ' ' Kirwan, ' ' 58 — Revivals at ' ' Wil- 
liams," 59 — Pittsfield Gymnasium, 60 — University of Rochester, 61 — 
Writings, 62 — Characteristics, 64 — Beauty of manhood, 65 — Dr. Baird 
on American Education, 67-70. 

ROBERT BAIRD, D.D. (with portrait), . . . 71-88 

Birth, 72 — His mother, 73 — College life, 75 — Influence at "Princeton," 
78 — First tour in Europe, 81 — Various labors, 83 — Characteristics — 
Lectures, 85 — Personal description, 87 — His Works, 88. 

JOHN P. DURBIN, DJD., 89-99 

Commences Preaching, 90 — Book-education, 91 — First visit to New York, 
93 — As Chaplain of the U. S. Senate, 94 — Oratory, 95 — Appearance and 
style, 97-99. 

THE PIONEER PREACHER, .... 100-122 

Moravian Missions, 101 — Massacre of Moravian Indians, 103 — Union of the 
Methodists and Presbyterians, 105 — The "Cumberland Revival," 106 — 
The "Jerks," 107 — William Burke, 108 — Remarkable excitement, 109 
— The Preacher's recompense, 111 — The Preacher's life, 113— Style 
of preaching, 114 — Bishop Asbury, 115 — James Craven, 116 — Father 



8 CONTENTS. 

Haxley, 117 — Peter, Cartwright, 118 — The Ferryman baptized, 119 
— Wilson Pitner, 120 — Mr. Milburn's description of the Pioneer 
Preacher, 121. 

REV. WILLIAM HENRY MILBURN (with portrait), 123-140 

His blindness, 123 — His memory, 125 — His studies, 126 — The Preacher's 
discipline, 127 — The Preacher's duties, 129 — The Preacher's educa- 
tion, 131 — Senate Chaplaincy, 132 — Labors at the South, 134 — Lec- 
tures, 135 — Education in the Methodist Church, 136 — Liberty of the 
Pulpit, 138-140. 

REV. HENRY WARD BEECHER (with portrait), 141-212 

Plymouth Church, 141 — Views of Man, 143 — Views of Slavery, 145 — 
Views of Theology, 146 — Views of the Deity, 147 — Views of Christ, 
149-153 — Views of Church membership, 154 — Views of Eeyelation and 
Inspiration, 155-162 — Views of Prayer, 163 — His solution of the Prob- 
lem of Evil, 164-166— His philosophy, 167-169— His pulpit humor, 
171-173— Sharp's rifles, 174— Preaching to the times, 177-180— What 
is truth? 181 — Selections, 182-196 — His mission, 197 — His lectures, 
199— Genealogy, 201— Biography, 203-205— Characteristics, 206— Ex- 
tempore prayer, 208-212. 

WILLIAM R. WILLIAMS, D.D., .... 213-246 

Bunyan, Fuller, Hall, Foster, Wayland, and Williams, 214-218 — Uniform 
command of his powers, 219 — Characteristics as a writer, 220 — Spiritu- 
ality and devotion, 220 — Erudition, 221 — Affluence of illustration, 222 
—Originality, 223— Beauties, 225— Criticisms, 226-229—" Keligious 
Progress," 230-237— Biography, 238— Publications, 239— Delivery, 241 
— Interest in the young, 242 — Extempore, 243 — Kev. John Wil- 
liams, 245. 

CHARLES G. SOMMERS, D.D. (with portrait), . 247-266 

Nassau-street Church, 247— Early life, 249— Bombardment of Copen- 
hagen, 250 — Mercantile life, 253 — Comes to America, 254 — Engage- 
ment with John Jacob Astor, 255 — Determination to be a Minister, 
256— Commences preaching, 259 — Various departments of labor, 261 — 
The American Tract Society, 262— The Slavery question, 264— Sum- 
mary of his work, 265. 

ORVILLE DEWEY, D.D. (with portrait), . . 267-288 

The religious influence of Williams College, 267 — An anecdote, 268 — 
College experiences, 269— Early religious views, 269— Change of Views, 



CONTENTS. 9 

271— Estrangement from Friends, 272— Dr. Channing, 273— At New 
Bedford, 274— "The Old World and the New," 275— A word to Wo- 
men, 276 — "The Church of the Messiah," 277 — Lectures, 278 — "Lib- 
erty," 279 — A charge repelled, 280 — His character, 281 — His style, 
282— His discourses, 283— His oratory, 286. 

FREDERICK D. HUNTINGTON, D.D., . . 289-315 

At Amherst College, 289— His pulpit manner, 290— Letter of Kev. C. L. 
Brace, 291— Church of the Future, 294— His views of union, 296— 
Union of Congregationalists, 297 — His views of the Atonement, 303. 

LEONARD BACON, D.D., 316-330 

Biography, 316 — Ordination at New Haven, 318 — Dedication Sermon, 
319— His people, 320 — "Historical discourses," 321 — His literary la- 
bors, 322— His Review articles, 323— His sincerity, 325— A type of 
New England, 329. 

REV. THEODORE L. CUYLER (with portrait), . 331-350 

Reformers and Preachers, 331 — Characteristics of his preaching, 333 — 
Biography, 334 — Call to "Market- street Church," 336 — "Somebody's 
Son," 337 — " Faith and Works" Sermon, 338 — A New Year Discourse, 
340 — Selections, 341 — As a Platform speaker, 342 — Church accessions, 
343 — Intercourse with his People, 344 — Church hospitality, 344 — City 
Mission Sermon, 345 — His " Six Thoughts on Christian Reform," 346. 

SAMUEL H. COX, D.D., LL.D. (with portrait), . 351-380 

His parents, 351 — Religious experience, 352 — Spring-street Church, New 
York, 358 — First Presbyterian Church of Brooklyn, 361 — " Semi-lunar 
fardels" letter, 362 — His ideas of Faith and Preaching, 364 — "Inter- 
view" with two Mormon Apostles, 366 — Trials in his life, 367 — Anti- 
slavery Riots of 1833-4, 368— Characteristics, 377— His public life, 379. 

FRANCIS L. HAWKS, D.D., LL.D., . . . 381-388 
Biography, 381 — Editorial labors, 383 — Publications, 384 — As preacher. 



GEORGE W. BETHUNE, D.D., .... 389-400 

His pulpit manner, 391 — Conservative views, 392 — Characteristics, 393 — 
His preaching, 394 — Discourse on the " Eloquence of the Pulpit," 395 
— Specimens of his poetry, 398. 



V 



\ 



10 CONTENTS, 

RICHARD S. STORES, Jr., D.D., . . . 401-420 

His ancestry, 401 — History of the " Church of the Pilgrims," 403 — Per- 
sonal description, 406 — His discourses, 407 — Extracts, 408— Congrega- 
tionalism, 409 — Supremacy of Christianity, 410— Views of the Fugitive 
Slave Law, 413 — A new version of the Bible, 414— Dr. Storrs and Mr. 
Beecher in contrast, 416 — A Congregational liturgy, 417 — Congrega- 
tional worship, 419. 

STEPHEN H. TYNG, D.D. (with portrait), . 421-463 

Extempore preaching, 421 — His Sabbath-schools, 424 — Features of his 
Sabbath-school system, 427 — Sermon to children, 427 — Annual report, 
May, 1855, 432— St. George's Church, 433— Biography, 437— His 
writings, 440 — Criticism, 440 — His earnestness, 441 — His style, 442 — 
His manner, 443 — "Speaking against time," 444 — His strength and 
independence, 445 — Evangelical Catholicity, 446 — Memorial of Dr. 
Muhlenberg and others, 448 — Keply of Bev. Edward A. Washburn, 
452 — " Catholic union," 461 — Advocates and opposers, 463. 

JAMES W. ALEXANDER, D.D., .... 464-476 

Characteristics, 465 — Literary acquirements, 467 — Manner of life, 468 — 
Dr. Alexander and Mr. Beecher in contrast, 469 — His style, 471 — Per- 
sonal manner, 472 — Biography, 473— His writings, 473 — Dr. Archibald 
Alexander, 474 — Mr. Kirk's friendship, 476. 

GEORGE B. CHEEVER, D.D., . . . . 477-492 

His birth and ancestors, 477 — "Deacon Giles's Distillery," 478 — Capital 
punishment, 480 — His sermons, 481 — Eev. Joseph P. Thompson, 483 — 
As a writer, 485 — "Lectures on the Pilgrim's Progress," 486 — "Voices 
of Nature," 488 — "Voices of Nature" and "Star Papers," 489 — List 
of his Works, 492. 

REV. ALBERT BARNES (with portrait), . . 493-515 

Some characteristics, 494 — Biography, 495 — Arraignment for heresy, 497 
— The leading charges, 498 — His defence, 499 — His love of truth, 505 
— " Views of Slavery," 506 — True heroism, 508 — His character, 509 — 
Description by Bev. Dr. Brainard, 510 — His works, 513 — A finished 
character, 515. 



EDWARD NORMS KIRK 

THE EVANGELIST PREACHER. 



"How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that hringeth 
good tidings, that publiflheth peace ; that bringeth good tidings of good, 
that publisheth salvation ; that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth. ' ' 



EARLY LIFE. 



Edward N. Kirk was born on the fourteenth day of August, 
1802, in the city of New York, and was baptized by his pastor, the 
Rev. Dr. John Mason. His father, a native of Kirkcudbrightshire, 
in Scotland, was a man of humble origin, possessing the sterling 
qualities which have so distinguished his countrymen. Upright and 
faithful in all his dealings with men, devoutly consecrated to the ser- 
vice of God, he led a quiet life, doing a small and safe business as a 
grocer, winning the respect of a large circle of friends ; and, when 
the appointed time came, meeting death, under the roof of his son, 
at Albany, with the victorious assurance of eternal life. 

His family consisted of this one son and three sisters. Edward 
was reared amidst the temptations of a great city, and his animal 
spirits, quickness of mind, ready ways, and love of excitement, allured 
him from the restraints of school and the subduing quietness of home. 
He was a bold, passionate, heedless boy, enamored of pleasure, re- 
gardless of early privileges, and wasteful of life's seed-time. So he 
grew up, and with much the same character he attended school at 
Princeton and entered the college at that place. In the year 1817 
he joined the sophomore class, when he was fifteen, and managed to 
graduate when the three appointed years were completed. He was 
idle, and neglectful of books, from beginning to end. He did not 



12 



EDWARD NOERIS KIRK, 



even establish any reputation as a debater or declahner, owing to the 
rapidity and inarticulateness of his utterance. His physical develop- 
ment was of the best; and he was mostly distinguished as an athlete, 
somewhat of a boxer, a fine skater, a bold, chivalrous fellow — the 
defender of the weak, the champion of his mates — one who never 
flinched or failed, who " continued unto the end ;" who would sac- 
rifice all he had, even recklessly, in behalf of the cause he had es- 
poused, or of the friends he loved. 

On leaving college he entered the law office of Messrs. Radcliffe & 
Mason, in JSTew York, where he remained for eighteen months, be- 
coming, however, more familiar with the billiard-cue than with 
Blackstone. In fact, he was painfully dissipated, so that almost the 
only sign which he manifested of attention to mental culture, or pro- 
fessional promise, was his awakened interest in public speaking. He 
was a prominent member of " The Forum," a public debating-club, 
which used to hold its discussions in the large halls of the City Ho- 
tel and Washington Hall. In these debates such men figured as 
Sand, and Dey, and William H. Seward — students of law at that 
time. In debate he began to recognize his power, and his friends to 
gather hope for the future. 

Nineteen years of his life had gone by. The forming-period of 
character is passed, and the seed-time is at an end. The mind is as 
yet undisciplined, the passions unsubdued, plans for life unsettled, 
life's great purpose disregarded. Early indulgences have become es- 
tablished habits, factitious excitement has grown to a necessity, and 
the garment of sin which was slipped on so smoothly, and is worn 
so easily, will be found, when the effort comes to put it off, to have 
hardened into a garment of welded iron. Such is the condition, up 
to a certain day, of one created in God's image, an heir of immor- 
tality, a child of prayer, a recipient of Heaven's bounties, endowed 
with powers that might move a nation, and affect the immortal des- 
tinies of thousands. And up to this certain day he has been de- 
facing this image, and trifling with this immortality, and nullifying 
these prayers, and treading on these blessings, and wasting these 
gifts. And during all the time before this certain day, the warnings 
of a father, the counsels of teachers, the solicitations of friends, the 



CONVERSION. 13 

admonitions of ministers, have all been unavailing, to waken in the 
soul one abiding desire for a higher and better life, or one fruit-bear- 
ing resolution to enter the path which revelation makes manifest, 
and reason recommends as the path of right and the way to immor- 
tality. But only four days elapse, and lo ! all is changed ! He does 
not seem like the same person he was four days before. He can 
hardly be said, in truth, to be the same person, so great is the 
change. The habits, hardening for a dozen years, are cast off — the 
rivets of the iron garment are rent asunder — the waste-gate of priv- 
ileges is shut down. Irresolution of purpose and lack of object are 
exchanged for firm decision and for an established course. Old 
things have all passed away, behold ! all things have become new ! 
New hopes are budding forth, new purposes are formed, new habits 
assumed, new thoughts awakened, new joys experienced, a new life 
is commenced; and the hopes, and purposes, and habits, and 
thoughts, and joys, which began their life on that day have been 
strengthening, and enlarging, and developing ever since. They are 
the hopes of heaven, the purposes of benevolence, the habits of right- 
doing, the thoughts of God, the joys of immortality. This is a won- 
derful fact ; we stale it simply as a fact, worthy of attention from 
those who are studying the human mind, striving to read the secrets 
of the human soul, and to determine the principles of human action- 
Facts like this are not rare ; yet they are not so frequent as to be un- 
noticeable, for how often the reckless youth of twenty becomes the 
ruined man of thirty, or a cumberer of the earth at forty. And when 
such a youth, on the other hand, is changed into an honor to man- 
kind, and a blessing to the world, dispensing good deeds, and preach- 
ing the truth with an eloquence of life not inferior to the eloquence 
of his words, is it not a fact whose cause is worthy of investigation, 
and its results, of rejoicing ? How this change was brought about, 
what means were employed for its production, what was the inner 
experience, we do not know. We only know that Mr. Kirk was led 
to reflection by a long series of influences wonderfully directed by 
Providence, that his thoughts became most serious, so serious that 
he left law study and billiard-balls, shut himself in his room, re- 
mained there during four days, and came forth — a Christian. Ah ! 



14 EDWAKD NOEEIS KIEK. 

what struggles, what conflicts, what agonies were endured in the 
solitude of these four days ! We know not the history of that era. 
It is all hidden to the world. Verily, the life of man is not known 
— the great life within — the real soul-life ! We can catch a glimpse 
at times — we can infer something from what is seen externally, and 
from our own experience ; yet we know but little at the best. The 
life of hopes, and joys, and aspirations, and fears, and struggles, and 
defeats, and victories, ever beating, throbbing underneath, is all sealed 
to our sight in the secret chambers of the soul. 

" Man to man was never known, 
Heart with heart did never meet, 
We are columns left alone 
Of a temple once complete." 

In this connection a special interest will attach to a statement 
once made at a select meeting by the Rev. Dr. Waterbury, of Bos- 
ton. Designing; to illustrate God's faithfulness to those who trust 
him, and the remarkable methods of his providence, he related the 
following facts : 

" Many years ago, a Mr. Scudder came to my father's house, in 
New York, wishing to reside in the family, while prosecuting his 
medical studies. Not a member of the family then knew any thing 
of practical religion. But Mr. Scudder added to the attractiveness 
of a Christian life the persuasions of earnest zeal that we would make 
our peace with God. The result of his patient efforts was the entire 
change of the character of our household. Harriet, my sister, be- 
came a Christian, and afterwards was married to Mr. Scudder, and 
has most faithfully rewarded his fidelity to her by the devotion of 
her life to him and to his work as a missionary. 

"After a long residence in India, Dr. Scudder sent his sons to 
America to be educated. Henry was a wild and wicked boy, and 
gave his friends great disquietude. But his father and mother never 
lost their confidence in God. Their fervent prayers for him were in- 
cessant. Now mark how God answers prayers, and how he rewards, 
after long years and heavy trials, the faithful labors of his servants. 
I had been brought to know and love the Saviour through the influ- 



BECOMES A PREACHER. 15 

ence of Mr. Sc udder, when living in my father's family. In the 
spring of 1822, I went to New York to spend a college vacation. 
While there, I addressed an audience of young men. At the close 
of the meeting, one of them followed me up Greenwich-street, and at 
length accosted me. His question was direct : " What must I do to 
be saved •" I gave him Paul's answer to the same question, and it 
was not long before he fulfilled it happily in his own experience, and 
in a few years after entered the ministry. 

" In 1840, this young man, now grown to be that eloquent cham- 
pion of the truth, the Rev. E. N. Kirk, was preaching in Dr. Skin- 
ner's church in New York, and a son of Dr. Skinner became a Chris- 
tian through his influence. He was an intimate friend of young 
Scudder, and urged him to come and hear the preacher who had so 
wrought upon his own heart. Scudder went, and by the sermon he 
then heard was brought to receive the truth as it is in Jesus, and 
is now laboring with his father, a missionary in India." 

Mr. Kirk immediately resolved to become a preacher of the blessed 
truth which had proved his salvation. With this purpose he re- 
paired to Princeton to prosecute the preparatory studies, and joined 
the theological seminary of that place in the autumn of 1 822. 

Now he begins a life of hard study. He was striving to repair 
the waste of school and college days. He succeeded to some extent ; 
but he has always suffered from the lack of those very things which 
early culture and industry produce. But though he could not 
wholly retrieve past time, one thing he could do, and did : he trans- 
formed the very evils of the Past into helps for the Future. His 
familiarity with the arts of the elocutionist and of the actor, as seen 
on the boards, he turned to practical account in his training for the 
platform and the pulpit. 

At this time a galaxy of incipient pulpit orators were pursuing 
their preparatory course. Associated in a debating club with Mr. 
Kirk, were Dr. James W. Alexander ; Dr. Bethune ; President Young, 
of Kentucky ; the late Dr. J. S. Christmass, of New York, one of the 
most accomplished of men ; the late Professor Dod, of Princeton ; 
Dr. Butler, of Port Gibson, on the Mississippi ; and John A. McClung, 
of Augusta, Georgia, remarkable for commencing life as a preacher, 



16 EDWARD NOKRIS KIKK. 

then leaving theology for law, during twenty years practice estab- 
lishing an enviable reputation at the bar, and now returning to the 
ministry. 

Mr. Kirk continued his connection with the seminary for four 
years. During most of these years he preached more or less, at one 
time having charge of a congregation of colored people. He had a 
Christian love and zeal which could not fail to find an expression in 
words ; and in the way of doing good to others, he was benefiting 
himself by practice in the use of those weapons which he was to 
wield as a " good soldier of Jesus Christ." Whether it is the true 
course for a person in his preparatory training to devote any con- 
siderable portion of his time to active service, is a question. From 
some remarks which Mr. Kirk once made on a public occasion, we 
inferred that in his opinion this was the right way for a theological 
student to pursue ; and he spoke from his own experience. Let a 
student learn to apply the truth, as well as know the truth itself; 
let him be trained by practice, as well as by instruction, and learn 
by experience as well as by books — it is by actual contact with hu- 
manity that we become skilled in getting at the heart of man, it is 
by preaching that we learn how to preach — such we apprehend 
would be the fair expression of his sentiments. Yet it may be said, 
on the other side, with a good degree of plausibility, that it is the 
business of a student at the seminary to study, not to preach, to 
become familiar himself with the principles of his profession, not 
to attempt to instruct others; that there is greater danger that 
he will neglect study than deeds of benevolence ; that it is harder 
to think than to talk, harder to do one's self good than to do others 
good. 

We would state for the encouragement of young writers, that Mr. 
Kirk, who, at the present time, is equalled by few in the facility with 
which he prepares sermons, and in the finish of their preparation, 
was taxed to the utmost in preparing, during the whole of his fourth 
year at the seminary, the four sermons which were required of him. 
Let no young writer be discouraged because he cannot write rapidly, 
provided he only writes something that has substance. If he has 
genuine thought, he has the gold. It is as yet imbedded in the re ■ 



FIRST EXTEMPORE SERMON. 17 

cesses of his mind ; lie must dig it out and get it coined, and then 
there will be no great difficulty in bringing it into circulation. 

Before the close of his fourth year, Mr. Kirk was requested by the 
American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions to become 
their agent, in advocating the claims of the society, and collecting 
funds. He accepted the proposal, and labored in behalf of the 
society for eighteen months, traversing New Jersey and Western 
New York, and making an excursion to South Carolina by water, 
preaching on his return through North Carolina, Virginia, Maryland, 
and Pennsylvania, in company with the Rev. Jonas King, now a dis- 
tinguished missionary in Greece. His opening experience in fulfil- 
ling the duties of this agency may be interesting to all, and certainly 
advantageous to those who may have a similar duty to perform. It 
seems that Mr. Kirk, after accepting the appointment, took lodgings 
at Hoboken, and there prepared a discourse which he purposed to 
deliver from place to place, according to the accustomed method of 
agents. This discourse appeared to its author able, finished, and 
eloquent, but unfortunately it produced little practical results. Con- 
gregations listened to it attentively, and admired it much, but seemed 
to forget to contribute in proportion to their attention and admira- 
tion. Thus the chief end of the discourse was not attained. At that 
time serious objections to the cause of missions existed in the minds 
of many Christians. They were skeptical about the feasibility of the 
undertaking ; they doubted whether the affairs of the society were 
properly managed ; they were ignorant of its good results. Espe- 
cially in New Jersey, the church was in a state of decided hostility 
or profound apathy. 

In social intercourse with the people, Mr. Kirk met objections on 
every side, and in a great variety of forms. Some thought that the 
efforts of the Church should be confined to the evangelization of our 
own country ; others, that the money was thrown away on the de- 
graded heathen ; others, that the missionaries should go forth, like 
Paul, unmarried, and so on. The objections were endless ; the name 
of the objectors, legion. A few ministers refused to furnish their 
pulpits for the advocacy of the cause ; and others would only con- 
sent that it be occupied on a week-day. Yet the apathy was more 



18 EDWARD NOKRIS KIRK. 

extensive than the hostility, and more difficult to combat and de- 
stroy. Mr. Kirk was obliged to meet these objections at every turn, 
and strove to answer them in private ; but he still held on to his 
elaborate sermon before the public. All the time, however, he was 
gaining knowledge of the state of the public mind. He was filling 
his quiver with arrows. It chanced not long after the commence- 
ment of his labors, that he had made an appointment to preach in a 
certain town on a week-day, and, coming to the church, foimd only 
two persons there, neither of whom was the minister. Giving up 
the idea of preaching to such a veiy select audience, he repaired to 
the minister's study, and after much persuasion prevailed on him to 
grant the use of the pulpit for the following Sabbath. 

As he was entering the church, he was met by an intelligent phy- 
sician of the place, who poured forth a volley of arguments against 
the cause of foreign missions, refusing all countenance to such a 
Utopian scheme. Mr. Kirk asked his reverend brother if that was a 
fair sample of the state of his people, and was assured that it was 
even so. With the consciousness of this not altogether pleasant state 
of things, Mr. Kirk went into the pulpit. He thought over the ob- 
jections — he thought of his written sermon — he knew that it would 
not dissipate one of them, and so he resolved to lay it aside, and talk. 
He rose without any notes before him, and at once threw himself 
into the midst of the whole herd of cavillings. He knew many more 
than any of his audience had ever thought of; and he went through 
with them, answering, defending, explaining, and enlightening. Thus 
Mr. Kirk talked on for nearly two horns, and when, at the close, the 
people were invited to advance to the desk and subscribe, they came 
in a crowd. That was the last of the elaborated discourse. There 
is no doubt that this success inspired Mr. Kirk with fresh confidence 
in himself, and gave an impulse to his power for extempore speak- 
ing, in which he has since so greatly excelled. 



LIFE AT ALBANY. 

OLD MEASURES AND NEW MEASURES. 

In the spring of 1828, Mr. Kirk spent a little time in travelling 
with the Rev. now Dr. James W. Alexander, who was out of health. 
With this distinguished divine he had formed an intimate friendship 
when at school ; and they were also classmates at college and at the 
seminary, being associates for some thirteen years. They were like 
David and Jonathan to each other. Probably the influence of Dr. 
Alexander was an efficient means in the conversion of Mr. Kirk, Dr. 
Alexander having become a Christian the year previous, during a 
season of religious interest at Princeton College. 

In the course of this journey he stopped at Albany, and was re- 
quested to take charge of the pulpit of Dr. Chester, who was unable 
to perform ministerial duties in consequence of ill health. There he 
preached until the autumn, when he was informed by a committee 
of the trustees that his services were no longer required. The. term 
for which he had been employed had ended, and the engagement 
was not renewed. 

The circumstances, which, in the opinion of the trustees, rendered 
it unadvisable to retain Mr. Kirk, and which led to the subsequent 
colonization of a portion of Dr. Chester's congregation, and the for- 
mation of a new church, demand a brief recital. We would not call 
up the dead-past of twenty-seven years to furnish an occasion of re- 
newed discussion, and possibly of renewed differences of feeling, but 
we are authorized in giving such an outline of the circumstances as 
shall shield our sketch from the charge of incompleteness, and which 
we trust will commend itself to the judgment of those who shared in 
the experience. 

It can be said, we think, with truth, and without prejudice to Mr. 
Kirk, or injustice to the personal friends of the revered Dr. Chester, 
that the original reason for the suspension of Mr. Kirk's ministra- 
tions, was the fact that he was suspected of seeking to supplant Dr 



20 EDWARD NORRIS KIRK. 

Chester. There is no doubt that these suspicions were groundless, 
and we know of no one at present who, for a moment, entertains 
them. But, under the circumstances, it is not strange, perhaps, 
that certain minds felt them to be well founded. Mr. Kirk was 
a young man of warm zeal, immense energy, and glowing enthu- 
siasm. He labored in every department where a minister could 
labor. He preached boldly, pungently, and pointedly. He mani- 
fested an efficient, practical interest in Sabbath-schools, Bible-classes, 
Prayer-meetings, in the cause of Education, and of Temperance. In 
pastoral intercourse with the people he was untiring. He overflowed 
with the ardor which is fed by deep convictions, and the sentiments 
of his heart he uttered with impassioned eloquence. He became, in 
a short time, exceedingly popular as a preacher. Crowds flocked to 
hear him. A large circle of warm friends gathered about him. Ad- 
miration of his fervent oratory was upon every tongue ; while the 
truths which he uttered, with such pointed directness, and such in- 
spiring enthusiasm, rankled in many a guilty conscience, or nestled 
in many a Christian heart. There is no doubt that opposition to Mr. 
Kirk was manifested by those who could not endure the severe, 
searching character of his preaching ; and it may be that some, who 
were so zealous in behalf of their old pastor, were enemies of the 
truth more than they were friends of Dr. Chester ; yet we believe 
that it was the expression of those suspicions, of which we have 
spoken, which led to his removal, while we would not be understood 
to say that the trustees themselves, or any one of them, felt these 
suspicions to be well founded. On the other hand, Dr. Chester was 
a man of most gentle bearing. His style of preaching was mild, 
persuasive, and winning, never startling or denunciatory. He dealt 
little in the " terrors of the law." While the sincerity and talent of 
both were unquestioned, it is not strange that comparisons should be 
instituted between two ministers of such opposite styles of preaching 
— that, in time, a line of division, more or less distinct, should be 
drawn between the admirers of the young orator and of the old 
divine — that the mere expression of admiration by the former should 
be construed by the latter into implied criticism of Dr. Chester, and 
that in time they should suspect that these expressions of admiration 



NEW MEASURES. 21 

covered up an undue desire, and were part of a wrong effort, for the 
supplanting of the long-tried pastor. 

Moreover, another element was introduced in aid of the disunion, 
besides the suspicions of Dr. Chester's friends and the opposition to 
Mr. Kirk of those who writhed under his plain preaching. In the 
western part of New York a distinction had lately been drawn be- 
tween " Old-measure" men and " New-measure" men — correspond- 
ing to the distinction between the Conservatives and the Progressives 
in the State, or some would say, the Conservatives and Radicals. 
The old-measure men liked what was old — what had been tried by 
experience and proved to be sound — old doctrines — old styles of 
preaching — old orders — old ministers. They feared change, lest 
change should involve destruction. They were suspicious of alleged 
improvement, in a system for the promotion of religion, which ap- 
peared to them so nearly perfect. They shook their heads at these 
new-fangled notions. Their fathers followed in the old way, and 
walked uprightly, and they would not be wise above what was or- 
dained by their fathers. The new-measure men, on the other hand, 
were in favor of progress and of improvement ; they were aggressive 
in their spirit ; they yearned for activity and excitement ; they wish- 
ed to introduce a more vigorous, outworking life into the body of 
the church. The tendency of the former party was to inertness and 
inefficiency; that of the latter, to rashness and radicalism. The 
ultraists of the former clung to the old way, simply because it was 
the old way ; the ultraists of the latter shouted for a change, simply 
because it was a change. The leaven of this difference of sentiment 
worked to some extent throughout all the churches, though it was 
less prominent at the East than at the West. There it broke out 
into fiery excitement; here it but quickened the church to a 
healthy activity. It was felt in Dr. Chester's church, and those who 
would have been safe new-measure men at Buffalo, were the friends 
of Mr. Kirk in Albany. Hence, when they understood that he was 
not to be retained over their church, they set about to form a new 
one for themselves. They were not only friends of Mr. Kirk, simply 
as Mr. Kirk the eloquent and pungent preacher, but of Mr. Kirk as 
an exponent of an improved system for the dissemination of the 



22 EDWARD NOKEIS KIRK. 

truth. Hence, in a short time, a considerable portion of Dr. Ches- 
ter's church (among them two members of the session) withdrew, 
and formed another church, under the name of the " Fourth Presby- 
terian Church of Albany," and invited Mr. Kirk to be their pastor. 
He came to Xew York, was ordained by the Associate Reformed 
Presbytery, of which Dr. John Mason was a member (since merged 
in the Old School Presbyterian Church) — the same ecclesiastical 
body which had before licensed him — and accepted the invitation. 
The formation of the new church was a good, thing ; the old one, 
which was large, was not weakened — a new one was established in a 
part of the city where it was needed — two flourishing churches ex- 
isted where before there was one — the eloquence and zeal of Mr. 
Kirk was retained for the spread of practical Christianity in Albany ; 
and everybody that loved Christianity was finally satisfied. 

The eight years of Mr. Kirk's life in Albany were years of abun- 
dant labor. He was instant in season and out of season. He evinced 
superior skill in the organization and training of his church, so that 
it proved to be a remarkably working church. System pervaded its 
efforts, and each member filled a necessary place. It is said that at- 
one time every male member was competent to take part in public 
religious exercises. The church was divided into as many parts as 
there were elders, each division being under the special watch and 
direction of its elder as of a captain. Besides the regular church 
prayer-meeting, each division had its own weekly gathering for the 
interchange of sentiment, sympathy, exhortation, and prayer, which 
the pastor attended in rotation. At these also the necessities, har- 
assment^, and trials of every-day life came up for consideration and 
relief. Those who would never have revealed their circumstances to 
the world, were confiding here. The poor widow confessed her bur- 
den, and the hard-pressed business man acknowledged the power of 
sympathy, and effective measures always followed for aid and relief. 

Accessions were made at every communion. It may be said that 
one continuous revival attended the church, with the natural in- 
equalities of a greater or less freshness of interest. During the 
eight years over one thousand persons united with it. The ward 
in which the church was located was revolutionized. It had been 



FAREWELL SERMON. 16 

one of the worst of the city, where intemperance and license held 
nraj. It became the most orderly, and now includes the residences 
of many of the best and wealthiest of the citizens. Mr. Kirk intro- 
duced into Albany the revival era. Before he went there the con- 
servatism of the place had resisted all such religious movements, 
and so successfully that even Nettleton, an apostle of revivals, suc- 
ceeded the year before only in softening the superficies of the in- 
crustation. But Mr. Kirk and his church broke it to pieces, and 
during these eight years it was never reunited. 

After having presented this view of the causes which led to the 
separation, it is just to Mr. Kirk to present an extract from his vale- 
dictory sermon preached eight years afterwards : 

" I have felt my soul, my being, identified with this church. More 
than eight years have rolled away since I saw the first little band 
cluster together in the name and strength of the God of Israel, to 
raise another banner to his glory. To have said much about it be- 
fore the present time, would virtually have been to speak of myself. 
But that period is past. Since the purpose has been fixed to leave 
you for a time — perhaps forever — a new feeling has come over 
my heart. I feel as if I could stand aside with a more chastened 
affection and more impartial eye, to behold the wonders and 
riches of divine mercy. To-night I take with you a review of that 
period. To those who now constitute this church, my message is — 
behold what the Lord hath wrought ! It is befitting this solemn 
and trying occasion to recount, like Israel of old, the mercies of 
God, that you may praise his name — that you may understand more 
definitely the history of the principles of this association, with which 
you have become so intimately connected — that you may feel your 
obligations. 

" It is usual on such occasions for the pastor to speak of his own 
labors. I cannot do it. If I tell all that is in my heart, I shall fall 
upon my knees and cry — 'Deliver me from blood-guiltiness/ I 
shall supplicate forgiveness of the church — I shall weep at the feet 
of sinners, and ask them to forgive my selfishness, and my unfaith- 
fulness and cruelty to their souls. 

" To illustrate God's goodness, let us place the beginning and the 



24 EDWAED NOEKIS KIRK. 

end of the period of eight years together. On the 16th of Novem- 
ber, 1828, I preached the first sermon to a company collected in the 
consistory room, kindly offered to ns by the officers of the uSorth 
Dutch Church, who have .thus imposed a debt which we would 
cheerfully repay in the same currency, if an opportunity occurred, 
as we have endeavored to repay it in thankfulness and benedictions. 

u There were then two views taken of the enterprise. On the one 
side, both the friends and the enemies of God said it was an unholy 
enterprise, unwise and uncalled for ; I was charged with fanaticism 
and boyish indiscretion. It was said by the sagacious, 4 TvTiat do 
these men build ? behold, if a fox go up on their walls, they will fall 
down.' When this building was commenced, some ridiculed ; ob- 
structions met us in the usual financial arrangements, suspicions 
were set afloat concerning the safety of crediting any one connected, 
even indirectly, with the enterprise. "When the first indications o*f 
the special presence of God's Spirit were experienced, we were 
branded with the severest epithets, and the ears of God's children 
were open to the falsehoods of the wicked. 

" Xow, God forbid that I should refer to the past in a spirit of re- 
venge, or of boasting. I should loathe myself if I could ever in- 
dulge such feelings, but especially on such an occasion. God knows 
my heart towards this whole community, and towards those who 
were once my bitterest enemies. I do not boast ; but I say, that on 
the one side were these views, and feelings, and predictions : on the 
other, with much human imperfectiou, we certainly had for our lead- 
ing principles and feelings — a determination to sustain the plain, 
honest exhibition of the truths of the Gospel, without consulting un- 
converted men, whether they were pleased or displeased — and an 
unwavering confidence that God would bless us if we served him ! 

" There were many considerations which induced me to remain 
here. Low and selfish motives were attributed. My friends ' (I say 
it to the glory of God) I had as much confidence when I met in the 
first prayer-meeting with twenty persons, that God would greatly 
bless us, as I have now that he has blessed us. Do not call it pre- 
sumption, for I knew that I was surrounded by a praying band. 
Among many other considerations which induced me to remain and 



FAREWELL SERMON. 25 

bear the peltings of the pitiless storm, was the fact, as stated then to 
me, that a number of Christians were engaged in prayer from sun- 
set to sunrise, that I might not be permitted to leave the city. That 
turned the scale ; I could not desert such spirits ; and I knew God 
would bless them. I saw it, I felt it ; and I feel now as if I could 
go gladly to attack the spirits in the pit, if God sent me, surrounded 
by such hearts. And, more than this, this enterprise and my un- 
worthy name were on the lips of hundreds of God's praying people, 
from this city to Buffalo. An eminent saint, who preached over a 
wide circuit, was in the habit of encouraging the churches to bear 
our cause to the mercy-seat continually. I consider this church as 
a monument inscribed with the evidences of the power of prayer, 
and the faithfulness of Jacob's God. The enemy said, ' By whom 
shall Jacob arise ? for he is small.' We replied, ' In God is our trust ; 
we will make our boast in the Lord.' 

" Now let us see how the Lord hath dealt with us. Truly he 
hath encouraged the hearts of them that believed, and he hath si- 
lenced the enemy and avenger. I preached from November, 1828, 
to February, 1829, at which time the church was organized. And 
it seemed as if the Lord would try our faith by suspending the mani- 
festation of his favor, until as a distinct, organized, and consecrated 
church, we sat down for the first time to celebrate the death of 
Christ. I shall never forget that day. After its toils were over, I 
was sent for, late at night, to see a trembling soul who had that day 
been brought to see her guilt and danger. That was the first fruit 
of a glorious harvest. An inquiry meeting was appointed, and to 
my surprise, upwards of sixty were present. From that day to this, 
we have not passed the year without some special outpouring of the 
Spirit of God. 

" It would animate the hearts of other Christians to hear a de- 
scription of the exercises of many who have been converted. Never 
can I forget that beloved apartment of this building, where I have 
met the inquirers, and where I have seen them consecrate themselves 
to God and the Lamb. Oh ! what changes in individual character ; 
in families, nay, in neighborhoods, hath God's blessed Spirit wrought ! 
Within this period there have been united to this church, by letter 



26 EDWAED NOERIS KIRK. 

and on confession, one thousand and twelve members, making an 
average of one hundred and twenty-five each year. The Sabbath- 
school has contained one thousand five hundred pupils. 

"We have contributed moneys which I can trace as follows 
Domestic Missions, $853 ; Tract Society, $823 ; Colonization, $215 
Bible Society, $170; City objects, $1,220; Sabbath-school, $700 
Theological Education, $4,964; Foreign Missions, $4,900. Total, 
$13,843 — an average of $1,730 per annum. We incurred imme- 
diately on our organization a heavy debt, which is now, by our own 
exertions and the aid of friends, nearly extinguished. 

" The foundation-stone of this enterprise was laid emphatically in 
prayer ; the duty of prayer has been enjoined and urged incessantly. 
Meetings for prayer have been multiplied to a degree, in the estima- 
tion of many, extravagant. Now, it is not. fair to presume that there 
has been any more sincere prayer here in proportion than with other 
Christians. , But it is fair to suppose that there has been as much in 
proportion, and consequently that there has been in fact" more real 
prayer than in most societies around us. We have assembled in the 
early morning for months. We have met, for long periods, at ten 
o'clock every morning to pray directly for the conversion of the im- 
penitent. We have believed in the transcendent importance of the 
conversion of men. We have prayed for it. We have witnessed it 
in hundreds of joyful instances. All our history is such a demon- 
stration of the eflBcacy of prayer, that, if I had never had any other 
proof, I should feel an overwhelming sense of obligation to pray 
without ceasing. 

" We commenced with a love to the cause of evangelizing the 
world. In debt as a church, poor as individuals, we have never yet 
failed to do our proportion, not of what ought to be done, but of 
what has been done in this great cause. There were times when the 
faith of some of our brethren staggered on this point ; it seemed to 
them presumptuous to be sending away hundreds of dollars to others, 
when a heavy burden hung upon our own wheels. But we have 
never failed. For the last six years we have supported a foreign 
missionary, and during the current year we have raised by subscrip- 
tion nearly three hundred dollars more. But we have lost nothing. 



FAREWELL SERMON. 27 

The monthly concert of prayer has been to us a delightful season. 
In watering others, we have ever been watered ourselves. And 
when at length we struggled to roll off our heavy debt, God helped 
us. He inclined the hearts of our young men to step promptly for- 
ward ; and he raised up for us kind friends in the community. 

" We have been met, as before remarked, with the sentiment in 
various forms — that the Church and her ministers must not go in 
advance of public sentiment. The pledge to abstain from ardent 
spirits was thought by many to be a very good thing ; but it was 
not discreet to introduce the subject into the pulpit, and to urge it 
forward. We believed not so. Nay more ; we believed that it was 
our duty as a church to admit no one to our communion who would 
not enter into this stipulation. We wanted no Christians who could 
stand aside and look with indifference upon this noble effort of phi- 
lanthropy and piety. We have never had occasion to regret it, but 
much reason to rejoice in it. God has blessed it. Many reformed 
inebriates have entered this church, and to my knowledge there is no 
case of relapse. The walls of this building have resounded for suc- 
cessive months with the pleas of the eloquent friends of temperance ; 
and many a heart has been gladdened, as the father, husband, and 
son have come forward and pledged themselves to the abandonment 
of the destructive drink. The plea for the Sabbath, and the plea for 
the seventh commandment, have been urged here. And I rejoice 
that on this platform has been urged the claim of the enslaved. I 
have heard of the danger of exposing the building and the audience 
to molestation. I have heard of something worse — the odium at- 
tached to the cause of liberty. But we have gloried to bear that 
odium. We rejoice that God enabled us to erect one of the build- 
ings in this city where the cry of the oppressed and down-trodden 
could be echoed in the ear of Christian sympathy. We feel assured 
that it is right. We bless God for the assurance which his provi- 
dence affords us, that it is right for his Church to be the pioneer of 
moral reformations. The right of opinion is a natural right ; the 
right of expressing opinion is another, conferred by the author of the 
human constitution, and both sacredly guaranteed by the bond of 
our political union. And I know nothing more alarming in modern 



2S EDWARD NORMS KTEK. 

politics, than the attempt to browbeat free Amencan citizens in the 
peaceful maintenance of eternal truths, and to persecute them for the 
candid, manly, and courteous expression of those sentiments. "We 
have a right to try to convince the North and South. Ministers 
have a right from God, and a commission and a warrant from the 
American constitution, to expose the sins and dangers involved in 
the system of oppression legalized and practised among us. I am 
ashamed to hear it said that there are places in America where you 
cannot candidly and temperately discuss great questions of public 
duty and safety. 

" Hearing no preaching out of this place, I am unable to form a 
judgment concerning the various styles adopted in. this city. But I 
know that when I preached to another congregation, they turned me 
from them because I preached too directly and pimgently. I never 
could hear any other objection on the most careful inquiry. On 
that point I was entreated to change. But on that point this church 
took its stand from the commencement, and determined to welcome 
the most direct and pungent preaching that was according to the 
word of God. Xow for the importance of it ; it is to us most mani- 
fest that God has connected the conversion of hundreds with that as 
an indispensable means. As to the policy of it, it was said, ' Why. 
men will desert your churches. 5 God has shown us that it is not so. 
And more than that, I am the living witness to the fact that the 
churches in this city will now bear a degree of directness and pun- 
gency that would once have been thought intolerable. I am told 
that I have altered. I say that public sentiment has altered. One 
of the most convincing proofs of it to me is, that I am ashamed now 
to preach those veiy sermons which made the disturbance in the 
Second Church, because they are too tame and pointless. 

"And now, dear friends ! having shown what God hath wrought 
for and by this society, you will permit me to speak more directly 
of God's mercies to me as your pastor. No man can tell what I 
have passed through in this city. My entrance here was flattering ; 
my reception, every thing I could ask as a man and a minister. So 
long as foreign missions was my topic, all went well. But when I 
turned to show the amiable, and moral, and respected of this com- 



FAREWELL SERMON. 29 

mimity that they were more guilty than the heathen, and were going 
to a deeper condemnation, they rose in might against me. I had 
never known an enemy before, since my conversion. I had never 
been slandered. But now a new scene awaited me in this goodly 
city. I was reviled ; my sermons and sentiments were misrepre- 
sented ; friends grew cold, and enemies multiplied. For a stripling 
this was new, and, you may be sure, well-nigh overwhelming. My 
heart overflowed with love to all. I could not see why any should 
persecute me. But, oh ! it was a blessed school. I would not part 
with the lessons there learned for all the enjoyments of an undis- 
turbed prosperity. Yet for three years I walked the streets of this 
city, feeling as if, by God's command, I was an intruder here. I 
have felt as if the very houses frowned upon me. Cheerfully would 
I have fled and hid myself, like Elijah, in a cave ; but the very style 
of the opposition showed clearly that the controversy was with God 
and his word, not with the lips of clay which uttered it. 

"/But I turn from that to speak of the hearts which cherished, 
and the hands which upheld me in those trying days. Brethren ! 
sisters ! I thus publicly thank you. You gave not only a cup of 
cold water to a disciple when it was a reproach to you, you shared 
his sorrows, you shielded his reputation with your own, you would 
have shared the last earthly comfort with him, you would have died 
with him for Christ. You wept for me, you carried my burdens, 
you prayed for me. I know it. And my heart thanks you ; my 
soul clings to you. But chiefly I recognize the goodness of God in 
it, in whose hands are all hearts. I thank the members of the 
church for their forbearance, and sympathy, and respect, and the 
many proofs of their love. Nothing but love has made you bear 
with my very imperfect discharge of the duties that I owed you. 
God hath wrought in you this heart of kindness. My highest 
thanks are due to Him. I thank God, this night, before you all, for 
his provident care of me. I have not been prevented by sickness 
from preaching so many as twelve Sabbaths for nearly nine years. 
Since commencing to form this church, I have preached to you 
about one thousand sermons. I have assisted other churches in sus- 
taining more than thirty protracted meetings. I have delivered 



30 EDWARD NORRIS KIRK. 

ninety addresses on Temperance ; more than a hundred addresses on 
Foreign Missions ; many on Slavery ; many for objects in our city ; 
for the Tract, Bible, Education, and other societies ; attended and 
addressed the various societies in three anniversaries at New York, 
one at Cincinnati, one at Lexington, Kentucky, one at Boston, one 
at Troy. I have performed a tour through many principal cities in 
this State and into Canada, on the subject of Common School Edu- 
cation. 

" With the fullest sense of my unworthiness to labor in so glorious 
a cause, do I, this night, render thanks to God for bestowing upon 
me the ability and disposition to perform these labors. Brethren ! 
I have become a fool in glorying ; but God is my witness, I do it 
for his glory. I dare not refrain. I have been a child of Provi- 
dence. David could not hold his tongue from uttering the mercies 
of God after his great deliverances. 

"And now, brethren! I am about to say — Farewell! I leave 
you, not because I do not love you. My heart grows closer to you 
every day. . This church appears to me more interesting and more 
important than ever. I go, because I believe I ought to go. Europe 
is dear to my heart ; but America is dearer. And I know that, if 
permitted, I shall hail its shores again with delight. I go to gather 
light from the experience of ages — to see man in other climates, and 
under other institutions. My soul pants for knowledge, human and 
divine. But I would not indulge the desire, could not that knowl- 
edge, when acquired, be employed for greater usefulness. Be as- 
sured it is not for myself. Whatever I am now, or may be here- 
after, is my country's and my God's. I consecrate it to the Church 
of Christ and to the human race. 

"Brethren! what mean ye to weep and break my heart? If 
there be pleasure in the prospect of seeing many wonders, of witness- 
ing the splendid trophies of human genius, of indulging the power- 
ful desires of curiosity, I have felt little of it ; and less and less as 
the time of our separation has approached. The recollections of the 
past, the evidences of your ardent and unbought love, the anticipa- 
tion of your painful feelings, when an accustomed voice, which your 
own kindness has made you love to hear, shall be heard no more — 



FAREWELL SERMON. 31 

these considerations have occupied my mind supremely. The ques- 
tion, ' How shall I accomplish the most good for this beloved people 
during the brief period of our intercourse V has weighed heavily on 
my heart. And now the end of this anxiety is reached, and I am 
called to perform the last act of religious service in this endeared 
sanctuary. Oh ! it is with a heavy heart that I say to such friends 
— farewell ! Deeply shall your names, your countenances be en- 
graven on this memory. I shall carry a catalogue of them with me, 
and spread it before that mercy-seat at which we have so often met. 
My children ! my brothers ! my fathers ! walk in the truth. God 
has been with you, is with you, has promised still to be with you. 
Look at all the way in which he has led you. Ebenezers line the 
path of your history. Each one speaks to your heart — ' Be of good 
courage, for our God is an unchanging God.' 

" Brethren in the eldership ! called to watch over this flock with 
me, a double responsibility will now come upon you. I can no 
longer share that superintendence. But it is not among the least of 
God's mercies that the recent meetings which we have held, the en- 
largement of your numbers, and the plan of operations adopted, give 
such promise of benefits to the church. Be regular, be punctual in 
your sessional meetings. Go to this afflicted people ; watch over 
them ; for the tempter will now have peculiar power over many, by 
making a readier excuse for deserting the ordinances and the house 
of God. Watch over every wheel in our moral machinery. See 
that none of them stop, see that each is kept in repair, and is mov- 
ing in its place. I commend to you the Sabbath-schools, the Bible- 
classes, the Young Men's Association, the Maternal Association, the 
Converts' Class, the Prayer-meeting, the Tract distribution, the Be- 
nevolent Societies. See that this people hear the claims of each 
during every year. Do not let them hug their purses, and close 
their ear to the ciy of the perishing. Call the attention of this 
people to the great moral reformations of our day. Enlist their 
hearts for the drunkard, the slave, the unwary youth who walks 
amid the snares of the licentious, the Sabbath-profaner. Point this 
people to the times, and seasons, and ways, when they can labor 
with special promise of success for the conversion of sinners. 



32 EDWARD NORRIS KIRK. 

" Citizens of Albany ! farewell ! Have I wronged you, have I 
misled, or have I been as a prophet of the Lord in the midst of you ? 
Speak ; for I am now sealing the first section of my ministry, per- 
haps the last among you. I have stood on yon heights and looked 
over your dwellings, and my anxious thoughts have dwelt upon your 
spiritual interests ; my fervent prayers have arisen for you and your 
children. I have been willing to labor for the general good, just as 
much as for this individual association. If any have injured me. I 
would that they knew how fully they are forgiven. If I have in- 
jured any, I would that they knew how sincerely I implore forgive- 
ness. Many of you have kindly appreciated my desires for your 
welfare, whatever you have thought of the imperfect manner em- 
ployed to promote it. You are kind, and your kindness will be re- 
membered. 

" Members of sister churches ! God bless you, and make you grow 
in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. Eemem- 
ber your absent brother. 

" Unconverted fellow-citizens ! hear the last word of a parting 
friend; make Christ your Saviour, and heaven your prize. 'Ye 
must be born again.' Turn, then, quickly to the Lord, and your 
souls shall live. 

"Again, dear friends! farewell — farewell.'' 



REVIVALS LIFE AT BOSTOX. 

In April, 1837, Mr. Kirk sailed for Europe. His labors had been 
excessive, and he. went to recruit health, and to pursue certain theo- 
logical studies in which he felt himself deficient. It was his inten- 
tion to go to Germany, but certain circumstances, which were not of 
his ordering, induced him to stop at Paris. Here he held a series 
of religious meetings in connection with Dr. Baird, and afterwards 
conducted Sabbath services in English in Paie Saint Anne. The in- 
terest in them was universal and ardent. During this residence 
abroad, Mr. Kirk visited London, and held a series of religious meet- 
ings at Surrey Chapel, distinguished as the church of Rowland Hill. 



FREE CHURCHES. 33 

Here also the interest excited by his ministrations was great, and 
the fruits most gratifying to the heart of the Christian. About 
one hundred persons were hopefully converted. Mr. Kirk after- 
wards held a similar series of meetings in Spafield's Chapel (Lady 
Huntingdon's), the fruits of which were equally abundant with 
the former. He was strongly urged to settle in London by the 
English, with whom he is the favorite of American preachers, as 
also in Paris by the Americans there; but these solicitations he 
declined. 

During his absence, he was appointed Secretary of the Foreign 
Evangelical Society, under whose auspices his labors had been pros- 
ecuted in Paris. His department was that of giving information 
to the American Churches with respect to the Society, arousing 
interest, and soliciting aid. To this end he returned to this coun- 
try in September, 1839, and immediately commenced his new 
duties. 

"While at Albany, Mr. Kirk had become extensively known, by the 
wide diffusion of his labors. All recognized his uncommon power 
in touching the heart and arousing the conscience. He was es- 
teemed as an Evangelist of the times. He had preached nearly as 
much out of his own church as in it, delivering probably six ser- 
mons each week during the greater part of those eight years. From 
the years 1830 to 1832 he had preached much in New York city, 
in connection with the Presbyterian Free Church system of that 
day. 

The beginning of this movement is as difficult to define, as it 
is difficult to tell precisely when morning breaks in the east. It 
resulted from an anxious interest, on the part of some Christians, 
for that large class of a large city, who are outside of the influence 
of preachers, Sabbaths, and Bibles, and from a dissatisfaction with 
the working of the established system of churches, in failing to 
reach the degraded and profane. It was preceded by serious con- 
sultations on the morals of the city and the inactivity of the church, 
and by prayer-meetings of unusual earnestness. Simultaneous with 
these, the first aggressive movement into the ranks of the outcast 
was made by a few humble and zealous Christians in 1829, in the 

3 



o4 EDWARD NOKRIS KIRK. 

starting of prayer-meetings at the " Five Points," the " St. Giles" 
of New York. This sink of corruption was then even worse than 
when the reformation of Mr. Pease commenced — referred to in' an- 
other article. Baxter Sayre was a man whose route from house 
to shop led him past this wretched place, and whose heart was 
moved within him at what he saw, and no peace was granted him 
till having associated with him " Father Cunningham," an elder in 
Dr. Gardiner Spring's church, and a few others, he opened evening 
prayer-meetings in the grog-shops, cellars, and brothels of the " Five 
Points." These meetings developed into organized Sabbath-schools, 
and regular preaching ; and finally Mr. Sayre moved with his family 
into the heart of the district, taking a residence and opening a day- 
school at No. 45 Orange-street. His daughters devoted themselves 
to the school, statedly assisted by ladies from the city, among whom 
we may mention the daughter of Isabella Graham and mother of 
Dr. Bethune. 

The " First Free Presbyterian Church," organized as such, held 
its first meeting, June 27th, 1830, in Thames-street, with Rev. Joel 
Parker as the pastor, who had been invited from Rochester by 
Lewis Tappan, Dr. Bliss, and two others, who pledged themselves 
to defray the expenses. Thus was initiated a movement, which, 
rapidly accumulating power in its progress, became an influence 
throughout the city, and resulted in a remarkable religious awaken- 
ing among the infidel, the profane, and the outcast. Christians be- 
gan to attach themselves to it as teachers and exhorters. Prayer- 
meetings were opened at all points, not only in assembly-rooms, but 
in liquor stores and saloons, where access could be obtained. Chil- 
dren were gathered from the streets into day-schools and Sabbath- 
schools; wards were districted, so that every family should be 
visited, and invitations given to religious gatherings; abandoned 
women were induced to leave the ways of vice ; the moral statistics 
of portions of the city were gathered, and the foundation laid for 
the system of Homes for the Friendless which is now in organized 
and complete operation. 

It was the plan to open places of public worship where the seats 
Bhould be free, and the expenses paid by miscellaneous contributions, 



CHATHAM THEATRE. 35 

to employ preachers of popular gifts for extempore speaking, and 
by personal efforts to gather audiences of those who never attended 
church. Those interested in the enterprise subscribed the amouDt 
which they felt able to give, and on one Sunday of each month de- 
posited in a box in the church the monthly instalment, in a paper 
bearing their signature. Some gave very generously : as an instance 
we may mention the name of Mr. Dimond, a mechanic and jeweller. 
Early in the enterprise his acquaintance was made, and at this 
first interview he said with frank generosity, "I am a mechanic, I 
have been a Christian only a few months, I never have done any 
thing for Christ ; but I have a good business, and I think I can 
work out with these hands a thousand dollars a year for a free 
church." And he did : and that man, in company with another, 
afterwards built Broadway Tabernacle, in which enterprise he in- 
vested thirty-five thousand dollars, the greater part of which was 
absorbed without ever paying dividends. The influence spread 
among the merchants^ so that many of them met down town for 
prayer, and, in several stores, partners and clerks retired for prayer 
during business hours. 

The movement advanced rapidly. On the 14th of February the 
" Second Free Presbyterian Church" was organized, with Rev. E. P. 
Barrows as the preacher. In March, Rev. Charles G. Finney was 
invited to the head of a third company. The city was searched 
for a suitable hall, as audience rooms were rare then, and finally 
Chatham-street Theatre was suggested. Here were gathering every 
night some fifteen hundred people, admitted for twelve and twenty- 
five cents each, where debauchery, obscenity, and intemperance 
centred, in unexampled license. 

Two gentlemen called on the lessee, Mr. Blanchard, in his room 
in the theatre, and introducing themselves proposed to him to sell 
his lease. " What for V he bluntly asked. " For a church." " A 
w-h-a-t !" " A church, sir." . With open mouth and eyes, he said, 
" You mean to make a c-h-u-r-c-h here !" And then, with one of 
those mysterious revulsions of feeling, the tears started from the 
hardened man's eyes, and he added, " You may have it, and I will 
give one thousand dollars towards it," and he did. The bargain 



36 ED WARD NOERIS EXRK. 

was soon completed, and at the close of a morning rehearsal, by 
pre-arrangenient, " The voice of free grace" was sung, and Lewis 
Tappan announced to the actors, that on a following Sunday, and 
thereafter on every evening, there would be preaching in that place, 
the scenery would be removed, the pulpit placed in the centre of 
the stage, an " anxious seat" would front the footlights, and all were 
invited to be present. 

The pit having been covered with a floor, and temporary seats 
provided for three hundred persons, public announcement was made 
that a morning prayer-meeting would be held in the old theatre at 
half-past five o'clock, and Christians of all denominations were in- 
vited to attend. To the surprise of all, eight hundred persons were 
present at the hour. Prayers were offered by Rev. Herman Norton, 
the late lamented secretary of the Foreign Evangelical Society; 
Zachariah Lewis, Esq., one of the first editors of the New York 
Commercial Advertiser ; John Wheelwright, and Rev. John Wood- 
bridge, now a patriarch residing at Hadley, Massachusetts, who also 
gave a short address and pronounced the benediction. Meanwhile, 
post-bills and advertisements had announced the enterprise ; and the 
expense of refitting the theatre, amounting to $6000, had been met 
by subscriptions. May 6th, the appointed Sabbath, came. The 
theatre, on that day consecrated as " Chatham-street Chapel," was 
thronged by half-past ten. Mr. Finney preached with great power 
from the text, " Who is on the Lord's side ?" The sacrament was 
administered in the afternoon, and in the evening hundreds went 
away unable to get within the building. Mr. Finney preached 
from the text, " I call heaven and earth to record this day against 
you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and curs- 
ing ; therefore choose life, that both thou and thy seed may live." 
An attempt was made to disturb the meeting by noise, but the po- 
lice came to the rescue, and the services were most impressive. 
From that time Mr. Finney preached to an audience of from 1500 
to 2500, seventy successive nights. In connection with this preach- 
ing, male and female Bible-classes were formed ; prayer-meetings 
held ; Bibles and Tracts distributed ; shops, stores, and saloons vis- 
ited, and their occupants invited to go to the chapel. The bar-room 



REV. CHARLES G. FINNEY. 37 

of the theatre was changed into a room for social prayer, and it is a 
sticking fact, that the first man who knelt there, with strong emotion 
uttered these words of supplication: "O Lord, forgive my sins. 
The last time I was here Thou knowest I was a wicked actor on this 
stage. Lord, have mercy on me." Mr. Finney continued here 
for three years, till the expiration of the lease, and then went to the 
Broadway Tabernacle, which had been meanwhile built, where he 
preached till called to the Presidency of Oberlin College in 1836. 

Mr. Finney is one of the most remarkable preachers of America. 
With strong logical powers, and educated as a lawyer, he deals 
much in convincing argument. The law of God, in its various rela- 
tions, is his favorite subject, and he deals largely in its terrors. We 
understand that latterly he preaches more the love of God, and wins 
as well as alarms to repentance. His strength of mind is equalled 
by that of few. His emotional nature also is deep, but is rarely al- 
lowed expression. He has not the grace nor the persuasive appeal 
of Mr. Kirk, nor the vocabulary and diction of Mr. Beecher, but for 
a certain scope of preaching he is unequalled — that of impressive 
argument, and such presenting of the relations of religious truth as 
in its completeness and clearness works irresistible conviction, and 
brings skeptic, infidel, and apathist alike into broken-hearted sub- 
mission to the power of God. He discusses much the moral gov- 
ernment of God as applied to human accountability. His reading 
of hymns produces deep impression, particularly those of the class, 
" Majestic sweetness sits enthroned," which is a favorite with him. 
His sermons are long, usually an hour and a quarter. Occasionally 
his flights of imagination are sublime, and his sweep of oratory mag- 
nificent. He has also dramatic power, but uses it little. 

The fruits of this revival it is not possible to compute. The num- 
ber of free churches in 1836 amounted to six, over one of which Dr. 
Lansing was the pastor. Up to February, 1835, the three churches 
first established had admitted over fifteen hundred members, and it 
was estimated that only a minority of those who became Christians 
in these congregations united with those churches. A large pro- 
portion of these accessions were from the Sabbath-schools and Bible- 
classes. Of one Bible-class of young men, which averaged an at- 



38 EDWARD NORRIS KIRK. 

tendance of forty-five, in one year twenty-seven were hopefully con- 
verted, twenty-five became Sabbath-school teachers, and eight have 
since become clergymen. Indeed many of the present " pillars" of 
the up-town churches were hewn out of their native rock, under this 
free-church system. 

Dr. Joel Parker has lately written the following interesting nar- 
rative of one meeting of 1832, published in the N. Y. Observer : 

" The church at the corner of Dey and "Washington streets had 
been greatly blessed for eighteen months previous to the period re- 
ferred to. The religious interest during a year and a half had been 
of a very happy character. More than once during that period it 
had been very absorbing and general. A large number of youth of 
both sexes had been gathered in Bible-classes under faithful teachers. 
These classes furnished quite a number of accessions to the church, 
on each monthly return of the communion season. At the time of 
which we speak, but few came forward from the world to profess 
their faith in Christ. It was felt that there had been a sensible lull 
in the breathings of Divine influence. 

" Mention was made of this at the close of the solemnity ; Chris- 
tians were exhorted to pray ; and a meeting was appointed for the 
following evening, for the double purpose of prayer and conversation 
with the unconverted. The designated place of meeting was a large 
boarding-house, which had been kindly offered for the purpose.* 

" Anxious myself for the result, I was early at the place. To my 
surprise I found the entry and the stairway leading to the second 
story where the meeting was appointed thronged with people. 
Supposing that some cause unknown to myself hindered their pro- 
gress, I pressed through the crowd and found the two rooms and 
the hall, covering the entire second floor, filled with people. Find- 
ing that the company could not be seated, I commenced the services 
by reading a hymn. The song of praise was characterized by a pe- 
culiar feeling indicated in the tones with which it was sung. When 
it was concluded, there was an indescribable stillness of the compact 

* This stood where now is the Merchants' Hotel, Cortlandt-street. 




dr. parker's statement. 39 

5, which seemed to impress every mind with a sense of the Di- 
me presence. 

" Prayer was offered. At its close the same breathless silence was 
again apparent. I made a plain simple exhortation. It consisted 
not of any thing like cogent argument. It was not a stirring appeal. 
It was a brief statement respecting the helpless lost state of sinners, 
and an exhibition of Christ as the efficient remedy. As their pastor, 
I counselled sinners to accept Christ as their Saviour then and there. 
Another hymn of praise was sung, and another prayer w r as offered. 
I then requested the members of the church to retire, and invited 
such as were incliued to do so to remain for conversation with the 
pastor and the elders of the church. Over forty remained. Most 
of them were persons whom I had not before known as seriously in- 
clined. On conversing with them a singular and singularly uniform 
state of religious feeling was found to prevail. They seemed to be 
all impressed with a sense of their sinful state. No cavilling ap- 
peared. No excuses were made. No difficulties even were com- 
plained of. There was a uniform admission of inexcusable sinfulness. 
Christ's atonement was readily admitted to be the only ground of 
hope. There seemed to be a readiness to comprehend it, and an 
equal readiness to embrace it. In conversing with them there 
seemed no room for persuasion. Can it be that all these persons 
were converted to God ? There was no long law work, as our old 
divines were wont to call it. It seemed too easy. It appeared as it' 
it must have been some strange sympathy — some hallucination. 
But they came to subsequent meetings, and on mature deliberation, 
on the next communion, thirty of them united with the church. 
In the judgment of the session they were as clear in their views, as 
strong in their purpose, as humble and as devout and consistent as 
those w T ho found their way into the kingdom of God after long 
struggles and severe conflicts. 

"They wore well. There was every evidence that that was a 
happy and valuable accession to the church. A sweet and gentle 
religious influence was diffused over the congregation. The meet* 
ings for prayer were, for a good while, more numerously attended. 



40 EDWARD NOERIS KIRK. 

The songs of praise were more animated. The members of the 
church were more zealous in their labors of love. The fact that the 
work of conversion did not go forward seemed not to indicate that 
God had withdrawn his spirit in displeasure. The mode of the 
Spirit's manifestation only was changed. It was a shower of grace. 
The effect was analogous. It was as when a June rain of an hour 
makes the fields joyous long after the cloud containing the blessing 
has passed away." 

But that time is past, and its zealous colaborers are scattered. 
Many have gone to their reward in heaven. Most of those who re- 
main are silver-haired. In 1834 Dr. Parker went to New Orleans, 
returned to New York in 1838, went to Philadelphia in 1842, and 
came back to New York in 1852, where he has now a large church 
in Fourth avenue. Mr. Finney is in Oberlin, Ohio, and Mr. Kirk is 
in Boston. And there has come to be a divergence of views, not 
less wide perhaps than that of location. Some have become " conser- 
vative," some semi-conservative, some continue " radical," some have 
become "fanatical ;" but all unite in recalling those times of Chris- 
tian work and sacrifice, and fellowship and prayer, with profound 
interest and with falling tears, and all look forward with faith to 
that time when the fruits of that season shall be " crowns of rejoi- 
cing in the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ at His coming." 

And at this point let us pay a passing tribute to the memory of 
another colaborer in the same work. 

"Aunt Dinah" was a slave in Duchess county, where she pur- 
chased her freedom. She had become a Christian in a Methodist 
revival, and being anxious to read the Bible, had been taught the 
alphabet by the little daughter of her master. From this beginning 
she became so much of a scholar as to have accumulated quite a 
library of standard theological works, the writings of Jonathan Ed- 
wards being her favorites. She accompanied Mr. Kirk to Albany, 
and seemed at once to identify herself with him and his calling as a 
revival preacher. 

She not only attended him in his series of meetings at New York 
and other places, but wherever she heard of any " special interest" 
in town or country, there she went, if possible, without regard to 



41 

distance or season. She was a woman of remarkable native vigor 
of mind, intuitive knowledge of character, rare discrimination in 
respect to preaching, and by a thorough study of the Bible possessed 
an amount of theological lore which often surpassed the skill of 
doctors in divinity. But most of all was she distinguished for her 
humble, genuine, and glowing piety, for her love towards all God's 
creatures, and for her absorbing interest in the redemption of sin- 
ners. Her person was not attractive. She was much bent, not by 
years, but by an injury to her back, caused by a blow from her 
master ; her features were strongly marked ; her color that of the 
full-blooded African, strikingly contrasting with the snow-white 
head-dress she usually wore ; and her manner heartily affectionate, 
blunt, earnest, and decided. Her conversations on religious sub- 
jects, and she talked of little else, were prized by all. Her ex- 
positions of Scripture were discriminating, with the peculiar unc- 
tion which comes from a living experience ; her personal appeals 
pungent and effective, as well as pathetic ; and her frequent talks 
in female prayer-meetings, Sabbath-schools, and occasionally in re- 
ligious gatherings of both sexes, were never amiss. She inspired 
strong affection in those who knew her, and her circle of friends 
was not only large, but included some of the prominent citizens, 
at whose houses she was always welcome. The anecdotes about 
her are numberless, but our limits forbid their mention. For the 
last few years of her life she occupied a room in the basement of 
one of the New York churches, making occasional visits to her old 
friends. She died March 20th, 1846, aged 14 years. 

At this time there was stopping at the Astor House the brother 
of an English officer, who preferred the request that Aunt Dinah 
should be buried in Greenwood Cemetery by the side of his bro- 
ther, in accordance with his dying request. It seems this officer 
was taken sick at a New York hotel, and Aunt Dinah happening .to 
hear of it, sought his room, ministered to 'his wants, and began in 
her usual way to talk with him about his soul-interests. He en- 
couraged the poor negro's remarks, for they afforded him relief from 
the tedium of confinement ; but as they were continued and repeat- 
ed, he began to awake to a higher interest, and finally became a 



42 ] EDWARD NOREIS EXRK. 

penitent and believing Christian. His wish was complied with. 
Twenty-six dollars were fonnd in her room, laid by for her funeral 
expenses ; to this more was added. A procession of carriages fol- 
lowed her remains to their resting-place in Greenwood, and a slab 
of Italian marble was erected above it, which bears an appropriate 
inscription. 

To return to Mr. Kirk, at the outset of his agency for the Foreign 
Evangelical Society, in 1839. At this time the United States was 
in a peculiar condition. The late commercial overwhelmings seemed 
to have produced in the public mind a seriousness deeper than mere 
disappointment or despair at the loss of property. There was an in- 
terest aroused in those " treasures which moth and rust doth not 
corrupt," unusual for its depth and extent. A sentiment pervaded 
the church that Mr. Kirk was the man to meet the peculiar want 
occasioned by this unusual interest, and that he should not be en- 
grossed by one society, but should for a while be devoted to preach- 
ing the gospel wherever Providence snould seem to point out a 
sphere of labor. The plan was proposed to him, and he adopted it, 
with the stipulation that the churches where he preached should 
engage to furnish to the society sufficient funds to meet the deficit 
which would result from the withdrawal of his labors. This pro- 
posal was agreed to, and the result was most happy. A large 
amount of money was collected for the society, and the preaching 
of Mr. Kirk was eminently successful. He commenced his labors in 
Baltimore, and preached successively in Philadelphia, New York, 
Boston, Hartford, New Haven, and other places. 

In Philadelphia, especially, the interest was remarkable. The 
whole city, one might say, flocked to hear him. The effect pro- 
duced was somewhat like that of Summerfield's preaching, not so 
great in the way of eloquence, but greater in the way of religious 
impression and permanence. For Summerfield's eloquence was like 
Jenny Lind's singing — unapproachable and indescribable : that 
peculiarly pathetic, persuasive, suppliant appeal, by which he in- 
sinuated himself into the very centre of your heart, so that one 
heard him, bathed in tears, losing all note of time, fascinated, en- 
tranced. 



REVIVAL MOVEMENT. 43 

Those meetings are an exponent of a noteworthy religious move- 
ment in America — the revival movement. They are the fairest 
representatives of revival meetings. They constitute a marked fea- 
ture of the American Church. The leading idea of those who sus- 
tained them was to arouse attention to religious concerns by special 
religious meetings, and then by their daily repetition hold the at- 
tention till it became rooted in religious conviction, and bore the 
fruit of an abiding Christian character. They were sometimes con- 
tinued for weeks, and one, two, three, and even four meetings were 
held each day. Some were prayer-meetings ; some were allotted to 
lay exhortation ; some to personal conversation ; some to preaching. 
They were held at all hours. The rising sun looked in upon a com- 
pany of suppliants. The man of business laid down his employ- 
ment in its midst, and went to the sanctuary ; and at evening, espe- 
cially, gathered men and women, the old and the young, either to 
hear, or to exhort, or to pray, or to scoff. For the time all other 
gatherings were set aside. The social party and the literary lecture 
were made secondary. Even useful and necessary avocations were 
more or less neglected. Eternal verities asserted a controlling sway 
over the mind. And these meetings were continued week after 
week. Hence they were called " protracted meetings." And they 
did not occupy the minds of a moiety only of the community : they 
were a living presence among the people, and a pressure upon the 
public attention. When they did not kindle enthusiasm, they at 
least aroused opposition. Few were able to disregard, and fewer to 
despise. They were either loved or hated. 

It was in such seasons that Mr. Kirk was most effective. Here 
all his fine powers were brought into the fullest exercise. His ten- 
der sympathies embraced the crowded audiences; his modulated 
tones stole into their hearts ; his passionate appeals stirred the deep 
fountains of emotion ; his earnestness was electrical ; his eloquence 
irresistible. He gave himself up to the work. There is no enume- 
ration of the number of times he spoke. Neither is there any pos- 
sible reckoning of the results. But those were times remembered by 
many, and recalled as life eras. 

We have distinguished Mr. Kirk as the " Evangelist Preacher," 



44: EDWARD NOEEIS KIKK. 

because it was in these revival meetings that he came most promi- 
nently before the public, and because he is in the minds of most 
men distinctively associated with them. Moreover, his peculiar 
gifts are best manifested in the style of mingled argument, pathos, 
and appeal which characterize revival meetings. So strikingly was 
this the case, that many doubted the propriety of his establishment 
in one place, regarding him as belonging to the Church universal, 
and not to be appropriated by one community. But the calling of 
an evangelist, in its very nature, is temporary. It cannot be con- 
tinued for a lifetime. It exhausts without replenishing. It wears 
out the body by excitement, and deteriorates the mind by excessive 
drafts. There must be repose for the one, and quiet study and medi- 
tation for the other. Hence we presume that an opening to pastoral 
life once more was welcomed. 



RESIDENCE AT BOSTON. 

In 1842 he was invited to establish a church in Boston by clergy- 
men and influential laymen of that city, a public meeting being held 
for the purpose. In June of that year he was installed pastor of a 
newly-formed Congregational Church, which adopted the name of 
the " Mount Vernon Church." Immediately after his installation, 
he spent four months in Andover, according to a previous arrange- 
ment, for the purpose of resting from incessant labors, and making 
some direct preparation for the pastoral office. He preached first in 
the old South Chapel, and then in the Masonic Temple, while the 
church edifice was building, which he now occupies, and which was 
opened for divine service on the 1st of January, 1844. It will ac- 
commodate thirteen hundred persons, is always well filled, and often 
crowded. He accomplishes, with the same untiring energy, a great 
amount of labor. He preaches regularly twice on the Sabbath, and 
on one evening of the week conducts the weekly church prayer- 
meeting, devotes one evening to religious conversation in the chapel, 
instructs the children in an unpublished catechism prepared by him- 
self, and meets the officers of the church every Saturday afternoon, 



SECOND VISIT TO EUROPE. 45 

when the notices to be read from the pulpit are agreed upon, and 
the plan of the next week laid out. 

There has been a constant seriousness among his people since the 
commencement of his labors, and conversions are continually occur- 
ring. His relations to Christian ministers of all denominations are 
entirely friendly. His own people are unwavering in their devotion 
to him, and manifest a noble generosity. 

In May, 1846, he went a second time to Europe, to recruit by a 
temporary release from his arduous labors, and to attend the meet- 
ing of the Evangelical Alliance. The expenses of the journey were 
borne by one member of his church. It was a tribute of regard to 
the loved pastor, only the more grateful for being wholly unexpect- 
ed. We have been told that the Business Committee of the church 
voted to defray the expense, but inasmuch as this individual would 
not relinquish what he insisted on as a prior claim, the committee, 
not to be outdone, voted the sum which they designed to appro- 
priate to the expenses of the journey as a free-will offering to Mr. 
Kirk. 

We have occupied so much space with the biographical part of 
this sketch that the critical must be brief. Moreover, we are little 
inclined to discuss Mr. Kirk's oratorical excellencies, because, being 
so remarkable, people are ready enough to forget the solemn truths 
uttered, while talking about the eloquence of their deliver} 7 . This 
is true in the case of all ministers, but especially of Mr. Kirk, be- 
cause of his reputation as an orator. The discussion of his rich and 
sonorous voice, symmetrical person, finished delivery, and glowing 
style is apt to create the wrong impression that he has cultivated 
the graces of oratory rather than the graces of the Spirit ; and that 
his power is due to external accomplishments rather than to the in- 
ner fire of a fervent piety. The truth is, that the pulpit has been 
so associated with awkwardness of manner and affectation of tone, 
that when a preacher possesses a graceful delivery, we are a little 
startled, lest he is not altogether clerical. But those who have often 
heard Mr. Kirk must be deeply impressed with the spirituality, the 
unction, and the fervency of his ministrations. Such outpouring of 
feeling, such pointedness of application, such yearning tenderness of 



46 EDWAED NOEEIS KIEK. 

appeals as we have heard from his lips ! The words ring in our 
ears, so thrilling and so beautiful, as he poured forth entreaties that 
all would love the Saviour who had redeemed them ; warning the 
guilty with such a fearful yet pathetic earnestness ; and clothing 
entreaties and warnings with such a glow of enthusiasm, that it 
would seem as if the coldest heart must warm and the hardest in- 
sensibility give a responsive throb. Mr. Kirk has been highly gifted 
by nature, and these gifts he has faithfully cultivated, that each 
might be brought into the fullest requisition for the service of his 
Master. His voice is full, deep, mellow, and musical. It is a voice 
that is heard with equal distinctness in every part of the house, 
sounds as low and soft beneath the pulpit as at the farthest remove, 
and steals into the heart like the deep tones of music. His manner 
is difficult to be described, for. he has no mannerism. He is entirely 
natural, and manner is artificial. He has attained the perfection 
of Art, where Art becomes Nature. Every movement is appro- 
priate. There is nothing discordant, excessive, or outrt ; yet every 
gesture has its character and meaning. He is a polished speaker, 
but the temper of the steel is not weakened by the polish. A per- 
fect harmony exists between the voice, the gesture, the sentence, 
and the thought that is their life. His eloquence charms the hear- 
er. Some orators excite admiration, others inspire wonder, but Mr. 
Kirk wins the heart. This is partly due to his peculiar style of 
talking, rather than preaching to his audience. He seeks to anni- 
hilate the distance so generally felt between the pulpit and the pew. 
And it is due partly to the familiar character of his illustrations. 
They are by no means low, but are taken from matters of every-day 
interest and universal acquaintance. He brings religion home to 
the hearer, as pertaining to every-day life, not to be laid aside care- 
fully with the Sunday suit. He urges the importance of immediate 
decision with unusual power. He succeeds in making a person see 
himself as he really is, and not as he is regarded by his neighbors. 
The hearer feels that his heart has been scanned, through all dis- 
guises and all self-deceptions, and yet he does not preach against 
vices so much as against sin. He dwells much upon the base in- 
gratitude of the sinner towards a God of such infinite love and com- 



PERSONAL DESCRIPTION. 



47 



passion, and movingly presents the love of God as manifested in 
Jesus Christ. He also impresses the importance and the privilege 
of prayer, the beautiful communion between a holy God and a for- 
given sinner. To an unusual degree, also, he magnifies the word of 
God and seeks to lead his hearers to a more ardent attachment to 
the glorious revelation. He is characterized by his estimation of 
Christianity as an aggressive system. He inspires his church to 
make sallies into the enemy's camp, and not be content with de- 
fending the citadel. He would make his a working church, whose 
members not only attend religious meetings, but also enlighten the 
ignorant, feed the hungry, plead with the hardened, restore the fell- 
en, pray for the enslaved. Hence he has always shown an unwaver- 
ing zeal in behalf of the benevolent organizations of the day. He 
preaches unqualifiedly man's apostasy from God and his departure 
from an original state of rectitude. He exhibits Christ as the only 
Saviour, and salvation by faith both for the moral and for the profane 
— salvation, full, free, inestimable, and indispensable. 

In person Mr. Kirk is about six feet in height, of finely devel- 
oped figure, graceful movement, winning eye, clear complexion, 
and handsome features. His constitution is of the best, so that 
it has not suffered from early dissipation, nor from the more se- 
vere tax of professional labors. His leading traits of character are 
— warm affections, fine sensibilities, full appreciations, and rather 
unusual frankness and simplicity. His organization is finely strung 
in every particular. His musical attainments are good, and his 
ear and voice superior. His perception of nice discriminations in 
language and appreciation of art are uncommon. If he had de- 
voted himself to the study of Language, he would have become, 
we doubt not, eminent. He has not a logical mind, or at any 
rate he deals little with argument in the pulpit. In the earlier part 
of his ministry his power lay almost entirely in delivery and in fer- 
vent piety. But through all his later years he has been assiduously 
supplying the defects of early neglect of study. Now, a fair amount 
of thought underlies his effective appeals. Yet his calling is not to 
develop profound thought, or convincing argument, or elaborate ex- 
position, but to arouse the emotions and kindle the affections. But 



48 EDWARD NORMS KIRK. 

even a casual observer of his preaching will mark a gradual change 
within the last few years. At the commencement of his ministry, 
and for some time, he spoke extempore, for the sake of directness 
and vivacity. But he did not avoid the evils incident to this style. 
There were at times a severity and lack of intellectual culture in 
his sermons, which, to minds of the best order, appeared objection- 
able. We doubt not that Mr. Kirk recognized these defects, for 
they have been overcome, and improvement is always preceded by 
a knowledge of deficiency. Yet we sometimes cannot but look 
longingly for that impulsive, unstudied, and impassioned extempore 
of earlier years ; that flexibility of pulpit oratory which united the 
charm of personal conversation with the dignity and power of ora- 
torical appeal. In this no one equals him, while in written dis- 
course he is surpassed. 

Mr. Kirk's life is illustrative of three truths : — 1st, The energy 
which a thorough change of character infuses into life ; 2dly, That 
self-discipline and self-culture bear an immense part in the usefulness 
of a man, and that it is never too late to begin ; 3dly, The power 
of oratory over the mind, and the imperative duty of ministers to 
cultivate those mental and physical endowments which make effec- 
tive speakers. Why should there be less eloquence in the Pulpit 
than at the Bar, or in the Halls of Legislation ? 

A great work is to be done in this department, and we thank 
Heaven that such an example as that of Mr. Kirk is presented to 
the American people — an example which may guide the seeker, en- 
courage the despairer, and stimulate the aspirer. 



CHESTER DEWEY, 

THE TEACHER AND PREACHER. 



Behold, God exalteth by His power ; who teacheth like Him?' 



There is doubtless much selfishness in this world, much arro- 
gance, much base ambition, much pretence ; and there is much na- 
tive sensibility, lost to human sight or touch, either smothered by 
self-depreciation, or blighted by betrayal, w r hich is deaf to the timid 
knockings of weakness, as well as to the hoarse demandings of want. 
But withal there is much disinterestedness, much self-forgetting, 
watchful tenderness, sensitive sympathy, quiet self-sacrifice. There 
are many hearts responsive to all the cries of humanity, whether 
coming from the chill of penury, or the tossings of disease, or yet 
worse, from sterile ignorance, or blighting vice, or unforgiven sin. 

It is for the sake of evidencing such devotion to duty and human- 
ity, of setting forth the comforting and encouraging in life, as well 
as to present the pulpit orators of America, and the religious charac- 
teristics of her history, that these sketches are prepared. We would 
embody in our biographies genuine manhood in a variety of its 
manifestations and experiences, and the circle of illustrations would 
be incomplete did we omit a portrait of the true Teacher, or rather 
of a representative of the large class of American clergy who are 
both Teachers and Preachers. 

To a prevailing sentiment, that the profession of teaching is infe- 
rior to the "three learned professions," exception must be taken. 
Indeed we cannot acknowledge it inferior to any, unless it be to that 
of the Pastor and Preacher, who is indeed the religious Teacher. 

4 



50 CHESTER DEWEY. 

We believe it will one day be so regarded, and the boasted titles and 
affected claims of outward circumstance and factitious life will sink 
in comparison to insignificance. It would be enough to magnify 
the profession in the eyes of some, to show the list of those who 
have belonged to it ; to cluster the names of Plato, Socrates, Aris- 
totle, Milton, Johnson, and Arnold. But others will object to such 
evidence, for the man does not make the profession, nor the profes- 
sion the man. There are other grounds of decision. 

What are the faculties or gifts demanded by the profession ? for 
this is the standard by which to measure relative values in man's 
occupations. Why is not the industrious and expert scavenger 
equal to the industrious and expert mechanic ? Simply because less 
is demanded of him. We- must confess to distinctions. " There are 
diversities of gifts." The high and low, the patrician and the ple- 
beian are necessities ; Nature's elevations and depressions must be 
recognized, and though " God worketh all in all," honor must be 
proportioned to them. 

Therefore we ask, What is demanded by the Teacher's profession ? 

It demands, first, intellectual superiority. This includes not only 
thorough knowledge of subjects taught, but of many others incident- 
ally related therewith. The notion is false that any one can be a 
teacher ; that a smattering of knowledge, with a good text-book open 
before one, is enough for instruction. Even the acquisition of rudi- 
ments requires the guidance of a proficient. Work half done is not 
done at all ; nay more, obstacles are accumulated in the path of fu- 
ture progress and success. The teacher must be himself a truly 
educated man, that is, his own mind must be developed and. disci- 
plined, or he can never lead on the minds of his pupils. He must 
have a quick perception of mental workings and idiosyncracies, and 
of heart workings too. All minds cannot be dealt with alike, nor 
each mind in the same way at all times. Even opposite treatments 
are needed, according to states, conditions, superiorities. 

Moreover the teacher must not only have knowledge and interest 
in the studies, but this interest is to be kept fresh in spite of the 
most frequent and long-continued repetition. To this must be add- 
ed the power of infusing this interest into the minds of pupils. This 



THE TRUE TEACHEK. 51 

is the crowning intellectual gift of the true teacher. It is one of the 
forms of genius. 

But more than 'intellectual superiority, the profession demands 
moral superiority. The teacher must be the true man, the good 
man, the noble man, that his pupils, by beholding, may reflect and 
become the same. Though we are not speaking of the moral or re- 
ligious teacher, yet the moral so transcends the intellectual, charac- 
ter so transcends talent, and the influence of the one is so much 
more certain, powerful, necessary, and immediate than of the other, 
that we think no intellectual advantage ought to be regarded as in 
the least balancing a moral disadvantage. In fine, the teacher must 
be able, in the words of Kant, " to develop in each individual all the 
perfection of which he is susceptible," and to compass that power 
by experimental insight into the great principle of upward progress 
contained in the quotation which heads this sketch. 

Chester Dewey represents the true Teacher. He is learned, intel- 
lectual, religious. His knowledge of human nature is discrimina- 
ting. He appreciates shades of difference between different minds. 
The acquisition of knowledge is a delight, and its communication 
not only a delight but a necessity. With some, knowledge lies on 
the dyspeptic brains an undigested burden, but with Mr. Dewey it 
is vitality and health. His interest in rudiments never tires — his 
faculty of interesting others never fails. His influence over the 
young is ennobling : he bridges the chasm between teacher and pu- 
pil with compacted information, and thereupon pass back and forth 
sympathies and affections : and the pathway of his declining years 
is strewn with the grateful tributes of the many he has educated, 
now rejoicing in a successful manhood. To them we refer as prompt 
endorsers of our presentation. 

Chester Dewey was born October 25th, 1*784, in the town of 
Sheffield, Berkshire county, Massachusetts. His father was a farm- 
er, who was prevented from obtaining a liberal education by the 
troublous times of the Revolution. He was a man of strong mind, 
sound judgment, sober integrity, and, consequently, of commanding 
influence in his town. In those days, when lawyers and courts were 
not as now, to be found, like the images of the Israelites, " on every 



52 CHESTER DEWEY. 

high hill, and under every green tree," he was resorted to as the ar- 
biter in disputes, and the judge of the place, and from his decisions 
an appeal was rarely taken. But respected as* he was, he always 
suffered in his own feelings from the lack of a liberal education. 
He felt that it was his natural birthright, that he would have ap- 
preciated it and improved it. And in his thoughtful moods there 
came up before him so many questions which a liberal education 
would have solved, so many labyrinthine threads of information 
which it would have enabled him to follow out into the open day. 
that he was troubled by his deficiency. He felt, too, the lack of a 
higher facility in communicating what he did know. As it vras, he 
possessed a singular clearness of expression, but he longed for a 
greater power. 

With these convictions, he determined to give to his first-bom 
son that which he so sorrowingly wanted. Holding to this purpose, 
he exercised more wisdom than some parents manifest, who keep 
their sons from the soil as they would from a contagion, deeming 
that head-work precludes hand-work; that the " college boy" w< 
be ruined by being first the " farmer boy ;" that the hand which is to 
hold the pen, and turn the leaf, and dig Greek roots, should never 
hold the plough, or turn the furrow, or dig garden roots. He began 
by educating the body of his boy before the brain, and developing 
muscle before mind. "Mens Sana in <:■: . ;cy' was his golden 

principle of education. If such were the system of all parents, and 
if all sons appreciated health, and would work to get and keen it. 
we should hear less of ragged authors, dilapidated teachers, and 
bronchial preachers. He had, however, all the advantages of sell : : 1 
instruction which the times afforded, and play enough to keep his 
spirits buoyant, his cheek rosy, and Lis eve bright. He was from 
childhood remarkably active, prompt, and alert, It is an inei 
as illustrative of the maxim, that ; ' the boy is father to the man," 
that when an infant he always rocked himself to sleep. His mother 
taught him to put his little hands on each side of the cradle and do 
his own lullabying. In consequence of this early training, and of 
an active temperament, he grew up a stirriug, independent, self- 
reliant youth, with a mind ever on the look-out for information. 



ENTERS COLLEGE. 53 

His childhood was an unclouded one. He was what one would 
style a sunny boy, ever bright, buoyant, bounding, the light of the 
home circle, and a favorite with all. He early showed quickness of 
perception, with a "gift" at imitation, so that he afforded great 
amusement by performing sundry little feats, which are taught to 
bright children. Dispatch in business was also manifested at an 
early age, united to a principle of order, which is rare in young 
people. Oh ! how many trials and tears would be spared the rising 
geneiation, if they could learn to "hang up their caps," and "shut 
the door," as readily as did young Dewey. He felt an absorbing 
interest in whatever thing he undertook, whether play, or study, or 
work ; and was thus impelled on by his own zealous spirit. Hence, 
as well in the school-room as on the cricket-ground and in the 
wrestling-match he was first. When thirteen years old, the whole 
care of the farm devolved upon him, his father being disabled by 
protracted illness. He fulfilled his task manfully, but it was long 
ere he recovered from the wear and tear of that summer. 

Most of the* fitting for college was accomplished in the district- 
school : three months, however, were spent with Rev. Mr. Robbins, 
the minister of Norfolk, Connecticut, who fitted hundreds of young 
men for college, being accustomed to receive them into his family 
for that purpose, according to the excellent usage of those days. 

Mr. Dewey entered Williams College, Massachusetts, in 1802, 
being then in his eighteenth year. He proved to be a superior 
scholar, ranking among the first in his class. While a good math- 
ematician and classical scholar, he evinced a decided partiality for 
natural sciences, which has since ripened into such distinguished ex- 
cellence. His warmth of heart, open manly disposition, and gallant 
sentiments, won the regard of his classmates. He had no false 
pride, no exclusiveness of feeling, but that keen appreciation of the 
good points in his fellows, that wide-embracing sympathy for the 
"great brotherhood of man," which is ever welling up from the 
hearts of the right-minded. In this connection we refer to a trait of 
Mr. Dewey's character, developed at this time — generosity in com- 
municating knowledge. He never hoards it in the coffers of the 
brain, there to rest or rot, but puts it into general circulation. He 



54 CHESTER DEWEY. 

talks out his thoughts, and with whomsoever he is, the child or the 
man, the ignorant or the learned, he is ever exciting inquiry, quick- 
ening thought, imparting information, and adding to his own store. 
His mental capital is productive. We commend his example to the 
educated men who have a talent, but hide it in the napkin of their 
selfish silence ; who have a light, but are themselves the bushel to 
it. There is a duty which such men owe to the community. They 
have received extra privileges, and they ought to bestow extra fa- 
vors. They ought to scatter the seed they have garnered, that it 
may spring up and bear fruit a hundred-fold. They have no right 
to go through the world a locked-up library with the key lost. If 
they know any thing, let them allow other people to know it also. 
They will be none the poorer for it, they will be richer for it, richer 
in 'their own stock, richer in the consciousness of doing good, richer 
in the gratitude of all. Mr. Dewey is a man who pours upon all 
the stores of his information. Hence his conversation is ever enter- 
taining and instructive, and his society sought. He began life with 
the resolve to be lavish of his knowledge, and thus it was that his 
college vacations were regarded as gala days by his family, for he 
managed in an attractive and easy way to scatter among them all 
the treasures he had gathered. 

In the previous sketch, we have referred to those remarkable oc- 
casions, perhaps not improperly termed " Revivals," when the soul 
seems to rouse itself from the lethargy of sense to a living percep- 
tion of the Unseen and Spiritual ; when great truths, long disregard- 
ed, start into living realities ; and when Eternity, in its eminence, 
absorbs all the interests of Time. Such a season occurred during 
the third term of Mr. Dewey's senior year, and he bowed himself be- 
neath the power of its presence. From that day he was actuated by 
nobler impulses than the promptings of natural sympathies. A pen- . 
itence for past ingratitude towards the Supreme Benefactor, for neg- 
lect of infinite truths, and a holy love for God filled his soul. Under 
the impulse of these higher sentiments he consecrated himself to the 
work of proclaiming salvation, and of persuading men to lay hold of 
the new life. Immediately after his graduation, he was violently at- 
tacked with typhus fever, and at one time his life was despaired of; 



STOCKBRIDGE. 55 

but the constitution built upon his father's farm was not found want- 
ing, and he entirely recovered. As soon as health allowed, he com- 
menced his theological studies with Stephen West, D. D., of Stock- 
bridge, Massachusetts, a divine of those days eminent for sound the- 
ology and actuating piety, and loved and respected almost to adora- 
tion. In October, 1807, he was licensed to preach by the Berkshire 
x^ssociation, and during the following winter taught a school in 
Stockbridge, and preached regularly in West Stockbridge, a village 
five miles distant. Stockbridge has always been distinguished for 
its refined and literary society ; and by the cordiality with which he 
was received into its choice circle, his love of social intercourse was 
amply gratified. Here, too, he found his favorite among the fair 
daughters of this beautiful village. She was the pride and joy of 
the place, a girl whose presence was a charm to the glad ones, a 
balm of healing to the sorrowing. She had an attractive person, a 
quick mind, gay humor, and a true heart. In the spring of 1808 
he made a pleasant, leisurely journey with his sister to Canada, in 
the sensible, sociable manner of those times, before steam had whirled 
away the good old practice of riding in one's own conveyance, thirty 
miles or less a day, and stopping for the night with some hospitable 
cousin or long-lost friend. We allude to this journey, not because it 
was fraught with the stirring incidents which characterized the Can- 
ada expedition of Sommers, described in another sketch, but because 
it is dwelt upon by its projector, as the only journey of his life for 
unmixed recreation and social enjoyment, when work and duty to 
self or the good of others was not the impelling and controlling mo- 
tive. From July to November of the same year, Mr. Dewey preached 
in Tyringham, a small town in the same county. Here his labors 
yielded happy results. When he went there, the church was rent 
by dissension, and depressed by poverty. The greatest revival which 
has ever blessed it, occurred during his ministrations, and he left it 
prosperous and independent, as it has since remained. 

In November he was invited to a tutorship at his Alma Mater, 
only two years after his graduation — an evidence of the esteem in 
which he was held, as this office was a tutorship only in name, be- 
ing endowed with all the responsibilities of a professorship. He en- 



56 CHESTER DEWEY. 

tered upon his duties under peculiar and testing circumstances. 
During the previous spring and summer, an effort had been made 
by the students to relieve the institution of certain obnoxious tutors. 
This occasioned -some trouble in college, but the difficulty seemed to 
be amicably settled at Commencement, and the students returned at 
the beginning of the year with the expressed intention of moving on 
quietly. Professor Olds, however, a man of strong and independent 
character, felt that the disturbances could only be atoned for by a 
written acknowledgment on the part of the Junior class, which had 
taken the lead ; and at his suggestion, it was agreed by the Faculty, 
that a paper to that effect should be drawn up, and each member 
of the class compelled to sign it. This was done ; but unfortunately 
each member of the class refused to sign it, and all the influence of 
Professor Olds, popular as he was, had no power to bend their re- 
solve. At this juncture, when a whole class was arrayed against the 
Faculty, the President declared himself on the side of the students, 
and the Professor, with all the Tutors, feeling their honor compro- 
mised by the course of the President, resigned in a body, and left 
him sole officer. Consequently college was adjourned for four 
weeks, at the close of which, Messrs. Dewey, Nelson, and Bobbins 
entered upon the vacant tutorships. Into Mr. Dewey's hands was 
consigned the refractory Junior class, which selection placed him 
next in authority to the President, and virtually threw upon him the 
responsibility of the institution. He proved himself equal to the 
emergency ; and at the outset displayed that tact for government, 
the power of influencing young men so that they shall govern them- 
selves, which has since rendered him so successful as a teacher. 
Upon his first meeting with the class he frankly confessed his own 
inexperience, told them of the evil reports prevalent of their insubor- 
dination, and reminded them that the only way whereby the com- 
munity could be convinced that they stood upon right ground, as 
they professed to do, was by a faithful and manly performance of 
duty for the future. The appeal was apt ; the students were thrown 
on their individual responsibility; they proved thenceforward ad- 
mirable pupils ; studies were heartily prosecuted, and perfect order 
maintained. An interesting tribute was lately paid by Judge Kel- 



WILLIAMS COLLEGE. 57 

logg, a member of the Junior class, who said : " I remember, as if it 
were but yesterday, that first recitation and Mr. Dewey's address. 
lie put us on our honor, and after that we wouldn't for all the world 
have done a rebellious deed." 

After remaining a Tutor for two years, Mr. Dewey was endowed 
with the title and perquisites of " Professor of Mathematics and Nat- 
ural Philosophy." He held the situation until 1827, a period of sev- 
enteen years — the best years of life — from the age of twenty-six to 
that of forty-three. These years were devoted to the upbuilding of 
Williams College. We shall briefly speak of them as a whole. 
The consignment of the Junior class to Mr. Dewey, the Tutor, was 
but an earnest of the consignment made to Mr. Dewey, the Profes- 
sor. As in that instance, so ever after, he was stationed at the post 
of hazard and responsibility. When a matter of importance and del- 
icacy was to be managed, requiring resolution, judgment, and per- 
sonal influence to insure its success, he was the man to handle it ; 
when any difficult point was to be gained, he was the one to reach 
it ; when any boisterous breakers were to be cleared, he was the one 
to take the helm. Thus, in time, this feeble, struggling, yet growing 
institution learned to lay its weightiest burdens on him, and consign 
to his care its more precious interests. We do not intend, by any 
means, to imply that he heard all the important recitations, or made 
out the bills, or always disciplined the students ; but that in any 
case of doubt, his counsel was essential ; in difficulty, his presence 
was indispensable ; in any difference of sentiment, his opinion was 
ultimate. Nor does this fact disparage the other able officers of the 
college. They were equal to their duties, and faithful in their per- 
formance. He did, also, much to advance the standard of scholar- 
ship, and enlarge the course of study. In the department of Natural 
. History he was unwearied in his efforts. The departments of Chem- 
istry and Botany he established on their present enlarged basis, lay- 
ing the corner-stone. For the promotion of these, and of Geology, 
he commenced a system of exchanges throughout the country, and 
carried on a large correspondence with the savans, not only of 
America, but also of England, France, Germany, and even Prussia 
and Norway. 



58 CHESTEPw DEWEY. 

In religious matters, also, as well as in governmental, he exerted a 
truly efficient influence. He had the best good of the students as a 
constant object of attainment ; and vigilant watchman as he was, his 
" beat" extended beyond the limits of scholarship. He strove to in- 
spire his pupils with the purpose to be men, true men, complete, 
Christian men. He succeeded, too, in getting at the students, in 
reaching their inner life, appreciating their feelings, prejudices, sym- 
pathies. He knew them individually. They, on their part, loved 
and respected him. They came to him for counsel, guidance, and 
encouragement. He was the guide of the inquiring spirit, and the 
consoler of the penitent. He prayed with the prayerful and rejoiced 
with the forgiven. 

As illustrative of the relation existing between the teacher and the 
taught, we will venture to narrate an incident which has come to 
our knowledge. Belonging to the Sophomore class of 1824, was a 
poor Irish boy, who was struggling up through a liberal education, 
with the purpose of becoming a minister. He was assisted in his 
efforts by the " Brick Church" of New York. He was fitted for col- 
lege at an academy in Amherst, but did not, as was expected, enter 
the college there. In the midst of his regular duties and daily 
studies at Williams, there came a letter from the officers of the Brick 
Church, stating that, in consequence of certain reports which had 
come to them prejudicial to his character, the assistance of the 
church would be withdrawn from date. The intelligence came upon 
the poor fellow like a thunderbolt, so sudden and so crushing. 2xo 
opportunity was afforded for self-defence or explanation. The letter 
was decisive and final. In this state he went to Professor Dewey 
and told his trial — that his support was taken from him, that he 
must leave college, relinquish his hopes and plans of doing good and 
self-improvement, and all for an offence of which he was ignorant, 
and of which, whatever it might be, he protested his innocence. 
Professor Dewey had regarded this son of Erin's Isle with interest. 
He had been inspired with confidence in him. His fellow-students 
respected and liked him. He was a good scholar and unexception- 
able in his deportment. Under these circumstances, Professor Dew- 
ey told him not to leave, or trouble himself about the paying of bills, 



59 

and going to the President, prevailed upon him to consent to the 
young man's remaining, on the assurance that he himself would take 
the responsibility. So the boy studied on, without any particular 
notice being taken of the Brick Church. At the end of a year, or 
thereabouts, a second letter came from the officers, stating that the 
charges of delinquency had turned out to be false, renewing their 
support, and, better than all, paying up the arrears. So the young 
man was saved. Professor Dewey saved him. And the Irish boy 
of 182-4 is now none other than the "Kir wan" of America, Dr. Mur- 
ray of New Jersey. 

In our limits, we can only allude to a college rebellion which 
came off about this time, and to Professor Dewey's admirable man- 
agement and removal of the difficulties. It arose from the rustica- 
tion of one of the students by the President. His fellows demanded 
his - restoration. It was refused, and the students rebelled. It was 
the wildest rebellion ever known there. Professors were locked in, 
one narrowly escaped with his life, bells were rung, horns were 
blown night after night, and college exercises suspended for several 
days. Had it not been for Professor Dewey's mediation and mod- 
erate counsels, most of the students would have been expelled; 
among them one who is now the president of a college, another who 
is a professor, another who is one of the first lawyers of New York, 
another who is a useful minister, and so on. It was in such w r ays, 
by his calm judgment and his influence with the students, that he 
accomplished good. 

Several revivals occurred during his professorship. In these he 
exerted a controlling influence, as the religious guide, the earnest 
preacher, and the sympathizing friend. One unusually interesting 
occasion deserves mention. The first manifest intimation of any 
special earnestness of feeling was made by the call of a student, 
whose name was Jenkins, on Professor Dewey, with a request from 
the Junior class that a prayer-meeting might take the place of the 
morning recitation, as the great seriousness among the students pre- 
vented the usual study. Jenkins had been an infidel, but his man 
ner now precluded all suspicion of hypocrisy. He was so deeply 
moved as almost to forbid utterance. The request was readily 



60 CHESTER DEWEY. 

granted, and Professor Dewey met with the class for prayer. It was 
a sublime meeting. There came together then a band of students 
transformed by some unseen power. Levity, recklessness were all 
gone — earnestness, honestness filled their souls — the depths of feeling 
stirred — tears flowing — prayers ascending. And this feeling con- 
tinued, and the earnestness prevailed, and prayers were answered. 
Between forty and fifty enrolled themselves under the banner of the 
redeemed. Jenkins became a Congregational minister, was settled 
in Massachusetts, and afterwards in Maine. At the close of the 
term, instead of the usual Junior exhibition, Professor Dewey preached 
a sermon, in accordance with the unanimous request of the students, 
which they published. It is beautiful to recur to such experiences 
as these, to look back upon a pathway studded with fresh green 
spots of happiness and righteousness, started into life by one's own 
watering and nursing. There is a story of a German merchant, so 
wealthy that he paved his courtyard with silver dollars ; but here is 
the pathway of a life paved with good deeds, leading up to that city 
whose streets are " pure gold, like unto clear glass." 

In 1827, Professor Dewey sent in a resignation of his Professor- 
ship. And why, if so useful and influential, did he resign ? This is 
a question difficult to answer in such a brief biography. Suffice it 
to say, that he was strongly urged to leave. A high-school for boys 
had been established at Pittsfield, on a large scale. Academical ed- 
ucation at that time was inferior. It needed to be elevated. To this 
end " The Gymnasium," at Pittsfield, was established. It offered 
advantages far superior to those of most of the schools. Only one 
other institution of the kind was in existence, located at Northamp- 
ton. Two were afterwards organized, at Amherst and New Haven. 
Strong representations were made to Professor Dewey of the im- 
portance of such an undertaking, and the desirableness of his co- 
operation. It was set forth as a wider field of usefulness, and a 
more reponsible post, and it was urged that the cause of education 
needed him at that post. These arguments were aimed at his vul 
nerable point. He yielded ; and, greatly to the regret, as well as 
surprise, of the trustees, sent in his resignation, and immediately 
removed to Pittsfield. There may have been some minor reasons 






ROCHESTER UNIVERSITY. 61 

which induced this change, but so far as we can learn, they were 
not connected with his relations to " Williams." 

For a number of years " The Gymnasium" greatly prospered, and 
outlived the other institutions of the kind, but, at last affected, like its 
fellows, by the improvement in small select schools, which drew off 
scholars from the high-schools, it became so reduced in size that Pro- 
fessor Dewey deemed it best to remove to Rochester, in the -State of 
New York, and take charge of the " Rochester Collegiate Institute." 
This change was made in 1836, and was doubtless for the best. 
Here he remained at the head of a school which received from two 
hundred and fifty to three hundred and fifty different scholars in a 
year, until 1850. 

He was then elected Professor of Chemistry and Natural Philoso- 
phy in the University of Rochester. This college resulted from the 
failure of the Baptists to remove to Rochester the Madison Uni- 
versity. 

This denomination manifested an unsurpassed zeal in the cause of 
liberal education, by contributing, within the space of a few months, 
the sum of $150,000 for the endowment of the new university, which 
amount will probably be doubled by the end of this year. The con- 
tributions were in sums of all values, and from all classes of people. 
The universal enthusiasm in the enterprise reminds of the early days 
of New England, when Harvard was founded by the gifts of well-nigh 
every Puritan home. As the Presbyterians had failed to endow a 
college in Rochester, to which enterprise Professor Dewey had given 
his best thoughts and efforts, the Baptist Board of Trustees solicited 
his co-operation in the new institution, in accordance with a liberality 
of administration, characterizing the institution, which is likely to re- 
sult in enlisting the sympathies and support of all denominations in 
AVestern New York. Recognizing the claims of this wise policy, 
from w r hich there is no departure in the five years of its existence, 
during which it has grown to be a large and thoroughly appointed 
college, he accepted the professorship, and has since given his con- 
stant efforts to advance the institution, sustaining relations to his 
associates of rare confidence and regard, and, as ever, winning the re- 
spect and affection of all the students. 



62 CEESTEE DEWEY. 

Professor Dewey Las done much, for the cause of education in 
Western New York. He did not take leave of her in: leav- 

ing "Williams College. Indeed it was in her cause that he left there : 
and he has ever continued faithful ::■ her. -■atchful of her wants, 
enthusiastic in her behali originating good for her. and gndmg 
plans e to a soceesBml DorasumHiatiora. She wag his 

early love, and he has ever been her loving protector rr or 

for worse, for richer or for poorer." And he has shown this devo- 
tion, not only in making his own sehc :". a worthy model, but also in 
efforts to elevate the character of school instruction throughout the 
State, and especially in labors for the advance::- t_: ■::' :he Public 
Schools. He was active in the formation of the "Teajhers Insti- 
tute," of which he has been the president, and in the annual conven- 
tions of this society he bears an important part. 

Professor Dewey has written much on scientin: 
been a correspondent of Professc* Silliman's " American Jourr. 
Science and Arts'' since its establishment in 1814. writing princi- 
pally on Caricography. In this department of natural history he 
has taken the lead in this country. We have only s:: fer to 

one interesting article in this Journal, which shows the fallacy of the 
well-known and hitherto unqu—:: >ne 1 experiment : : the distsaguislifid 
Dr. Murray, of Edinburgh, employed to prove that water li — imih 1 
heat from particle to particle, without accessary motion among the 
globules. In this demonstration Profeesoi Silliman e great 

gratification, but could not refrain from ; : Bag with this his reg&el 
that he should have shown his friend, Dr. Murrav. to be guilty of 
such a blunder. In 1829 he wrote a scientific description of the 
plants of Berkshire coumy. Ms b wa a sngraf) - 1 in a •■ His: My 

of Berkshire'' by Dr. Field. In accordance with an appointmem fay 
the State Government, he wrote in 1841 a "His:::T ;;"' the Herba- 
ceous Plants of Massachusetts." He has also published minor essavs 
on scientific subjects. He is remarkable for constant use of the pen 
in study, an admirable practi : i :inent in- 

junction when he took him to college : u My son, lear /our 

thoughts on paper." It is well to state also that he is a member of 
the "American Academy ■:■: A::> and Sciences,'' established at Bos- 



BODILY VTGOK. 63 

ton ; of the " Lyceum of Natural History," at New York ; of the 
" Society of Natural Sciences," at Philadelphia ; and of the " Amer- 
ican Association for the Advancement of Science." In 1837 he re- 
ceived the title of D.D. from Union College, and in 1850 that of 
LL. D. from Williams College. 

He has ever cherished his youthful fancy for the so-called Natural 
Sciences. They always were natural to him. And now he may 
often be seen, with bag on shoulder, hammer in hand, and very likely 
a troop of pupils behind him (for it's very difficult for boys to " get 
ahead" of him, even in the matter of recreation), clambering over the 
cliffs, scaling .the mountain-spurs, and roaming the fields, in search 
of layers, and strata, and " croppings out," and " primary rocks," and 
" secondaries," and flowers, and " specimens" in general. In this way 
has the bodily vigor, gained upon his father's farm, been retained 
through all the wearing duties of a long literary life ; and now, when 
past the allotted limit of " threescore years and ten," his form is as 
erect, his step well-nigh as elastic, his eye as bright, and his laugh as 
hearty, as when on the cricket-ground he " tallied up" higher than 
all his fellows. In this particular, as well as in his free outpourings 
of knowledge, we would commend his example. If the clergy would 
tinge their pale cheeks with the morning sun, let the fresh breeze 
brown them, and the mountain scramble tire them ; if they would 
search out Nature in her chosen places, and study God in that book 
of Revelation whose leaves are the fields, and carolling birds the com- 
mentators ; if they would occasionally find " books in the running- 
brooks, and sermons in stones," then we should hear fewer complaints 
of feeling " Mondayish." 

Until lately Professor Dewey has spent four months of the year at 
the East, in lecturing on botany and chemistry, at the medical col- 
leges of Pittsfield in Massachusetts, and of Woodstock in Vermont. 
This work absorbed all his vacations. He was in the habit of deliv- 
ering two lectures, of an hour each, during every day of the whole 
course, besides the arduous preparatory work in the laboratory. The 
professorship at the Pittsfield Institution began with 1822, and the 
one in Vermont in 1841. 

In addition to all these labors, he preaches, on an- average, one ser- 



64: CHESTER DEWEY. 

mon on every Sabbath. He is not confined to the limits of one 
denomination, but supplies vacant pulpits wherever needed, and is a 
favorite with all. In the pulpit, we should hardly style him eloquent 
or brilliant. He is instructive, interesting, and earnest. He always 
develops some good thought, expounds the Scriptures felicitously, and 
has variety in his reasoning. We would regard, however, the ap- 
peals he makes to the responsive feelings of man's nature, to one's 
gratitude, desire for immortality, and innate perception of the Good, 
the Wise, and the Pure, together with the manifestation of sincerity 
and deep feeling, as the characteristics of his preaching. In prayer 
he has a fulness, beauty, variety, and richness of expression which is 
unsurpassed. 

He has lately borne an important part in the establishment of a 
new Congregational church, called the " Plymouth Church of Roch- 
ester," of which the elegant edifice, costing $60,000, was consecrated 
in August of 1855, and to which no allusion should be made without 
mention of the name of A. Champion, Esq., the generous originator 
and main supporter of the enterprise. 

Professor Dewey has a well-built, symmetrical form, is nearly six 
feet in height, of full habit without corpulency, and with a face 
beaming with kindly expression. He dispatches business without 
slighting it ; is generous without prodigality ; self-forgetting without 
recklessness ; enthusiastic without a hobby ; sociable without loqua- 
ciousness ; inquiring without inquisitiveness ; holding opinions with- 
out being opinionated ; learned without pedantry ; starting questions 
without engendering skepticism ; decided without dogmatism ; and, 
finally, has a noble head without belief in phrenology. He has been 
twice married: in 1805 to Sarah Dewey, of Stockbridge, Massachu- 
setts, who died in 1823 ; and in 1825 to Olivia H. Pomeroy, of Pitts- 
field. He has had fifteen children, six of whom are living. 

The fundamental trait of his character is beneficence. He ra- 
diates happiness upon all within his sphere, be they high or low, 
ignorant or learned. Of this ever-actuating principle we need no 
higher proof than the fact of his having been a teacher of youth for 
forty-seven years, having delivered about four thousand lectures, and 
preached not far from three thousand sermons — the first two depart- 



BEAUTY OP MANHOOD. 



65 



ments having been filled for a bare livelihood ; the last for nothing. 
After all, these constitute the smaller part. It is the minor charities, 
that cannot be filed and numbered ; the daily, hourly overflowing of 
kindly feeling and appreciative sympathies ; the gentle words, the 
generous advice, which constitute the warp of his benevolence. 

As we look at such a life, we muse on the much there is of beau- 
ty and of good to assuage the weariness of life's journey ; thought 
is good, affections are good, health is a living fountain of happiness. 
How refreshing too is Nature, with her " voice and eloquence of 
beauty." The blue sky from its deep bosom sends deep joy into 
the heart, and the bright sun lights up gladness within, and then 
the music of the birds and the rustling of the leaves, the gentle 
hum of insects and all the forms of life stir a gladness, which sends 
the blood thrilling through the veins, and the voice utters itself in 
gushing tones of thankfulness to the Giver of every good. And 
then the merry laugh of children greets the ear, and harmony of 
happy voices carolling their early loves. "We see youth feasting at 
the loaded board of social joys, and old age leaning on the arm of 
youth, peacefully and hopefully threading the descending path, which 
shall change at death to an ascending flight ; we see hope light up 
the eyes of all, of 

"Youth in life's green spring, and he who goes 
In the full strength of years, matron and maid, 
And the sweet habe, and the gray-headed man ;" 

and we see goodness laying hold of that higher, holier hope, within 
whose folds is wrapped a bliss unutterable. Yes, it is refreshing, 

" To go abroad rejoicing in the joy 
Of beautiful and well-created things ; 
To love the rill of waters ; and the sheen 
Of silver fountains leaping to the sea ; 
To thrill with the rich melody of birds 
Living their life of music ; to be glad 
In the gay sunshine, reverent in the storm ; 
To see a beauty in the stirring leaf, 
And find calm thoughts beneath the whispering tree ; 
To see, and hear, and breathe the evidence 
Of God's deep wisdom in the natural world ; 
5 



t>6 CHESTER DEWEY. 

To gaze on woman's beauty, as a star 
Whose purity and distance make it fair ; 
And from the spell of music to awake 
And feel that it has purified the heart." 

But pleasanter than all to look upon, is Manhood steadfastly stand- 
ing in the allotted place, performing the work which Providence 
has appointed, undismayed by its severity, unseduced by its sur- 
rounding pleasures ; in singleness of heart following the path that 
opens; valiantly, effectively doing, because it is his duty to do, 
whether others, controlled by interest, do or leave undone ; and, in 
addition, striving to shed the warmth of sympathy and the light of 
information on all the waysiders and companions of life's journey — 
dispensing charities, encouraging goodness, exciting inquiry, radia- 
ting happiness through all the onward progress. Nature is beauti- 
ful, Thought is beautiful, Childhood is beautiful, Woman is beau- 
tiful ; but Manhood, strong, steadfast, single-hearted, sympathizing, 
is more beautiful still. 

Such a character we have presented, not one of surpassing genius 
like a Milton or a Bonaparte, nor one of surpassing talent like a 
Goethe or a "Washington ; but yet how superior, and how easy (in 
one sense) of imitation ! 

But how came he by this character ? Nature, doubtless, was 
generous to him, but he had a childhood like all " born of woman," 
and that childhood was one of impressions and of moulding. And 
it was his mother who impressed and moulded it. It was she who 
guided him, and inspired him, and prayed for him. She taught 
him to do what he ought, promptly and thoroughly ; to bear bur- 
dens cheerfully ; to be watchful of others' wants, careless of his 
own ; to keep life's great work before him, and thus be unmoved 
by trifles ; to hold Heaven in view, and thts be manful under the 
work of life. She was self-sacrificing and self-forgetting, and he 
grew up like her ; she loved God and all his creatures, and he came 
to love with the same holy love ; she joyed with the joyful, and 
sorrowed with the sorrowful, and his heart, too, opened in sympa- 
thy with all. And now, as that godly mother draweth nigh to the 
grave, with a heart as warm, a conversation as intelligent, a hand 



DK. BAIRD ON AMERICAN EDUCATION. 67 

as free, a sympathy as glowing, a benevolence as wide-embracing, 
as when she nurtured her sunny boy — with a life full of interest 
behind her — such a son present with her, and a Home of redeeming 
love before her — look on, ye Mothers, and answer, Is there not a 
treasure ye also can win? Is there not a duty ye should meet?* 



GENERAL VIEW OF AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

As an appropriate conclusion, we present a succinct statement of 
Education in the United States, prepared by Dr. Baird. 

"According to the census of 1850, the number of public schools 
(that is, of schools sustained or aided by the government) was 
80,978; the number of teachers was 91,966 ; of pupils, 3,354,011 ; 
and the amount paid for tuition was $9,529,542, of which $4,653,096 
were derived from taxation, $2,552,402 from public funds, $182,594 
from endowments, and $2,141,450 were paid by the pupils. 

The number of academies and private schools was 6089 ; of pu- 
pils attending them, 263,096 ; of teachers, 12,230 ; and the cost of 
tuition was $4,225,433, of which sum $288,855 were derived from 
endowments, $14,202 from taxation, $115,729 from public funds, 
and $4,225,433 from other sources — in other words, were paid by 
the pupils. 

The entire number of pupils in the schools, public and private, 
in 1850, was, therefore, 3,617,107, as returned by the teachers of 
the schools to the marshals who took the census ; but as returned 
by the parents, it was 4,089,507 ; the former giving, it is probable, 
the number that attended with a good degree of regularity, whilst 
the latter included all that were sent for any period, however short. 

The entire cost of tuition, including public and private schools, 
as well as the academies, was that year $14,173,756. 

There were 44 theological seminaries, 127 professors, 1351 stu 
dents, and 198,888 volumes in their libraries. 



* Since the above was written, this Mother in Israel has gone to her rest, at 
the age of ninety-two. 



68 CHESTER DEWEY. 

There were 36 medical schools, 247 professors, 4947 students. 

There were 16 law schools, 35 professors, 532 students. 

The entire number of what are commonly called colleges was, in 
1850, 215, and the number of students was 18,733; 963,716 vol- 
umes in their libraries. 

It is believed that there cannot be less than 35,000 Sunday- 
schools, with at least 2,500,000 pupils in them. These schools 
have generally interesting libraries attached to them. Not a few 
persons, especially among the adult pupils, receive all the education 
they ever get, at the Sunday-school. 

The public funds and endowments for the support of schools and 
academies in the United States, exceed 150,000,000. Up to Janu- 
ary 1st, 1854, Congress had appropriated to 14 Western and South- 
western States (including Florida), and the Territories of Minnesota, 
Oregon, and New Mexico, no less than 48,909,535 acres of land for 
schools, and 4,060,704 acres for colleges and universities. 

Within the last twenty-five years, many of the large cities have 
done much to found admirable public schools. In this good work 
Boston stands at the head; but Philadelphia, New York, Cincin- 
nati, Baltimore, New Orleans, Louisville, and many others, have 
also done well. 

According to the census of 1850, the White population was 
19,558,088, and the Free people of color, 434,495 — making to- 
gether a total of almost 20,000,000. Of this number there were 
1,053,420 persons over twenty years who could not read — namely, 
767,784 natives, 195,114 foreigners, and 90,522 free colored. 

Including the entire population, bond as well as free, the number 
of pupils in the schools, of all descriptions, was in the ratio of 1 to 
5-6. 

Of what we call Public Libraries in the United States, there 
were, in 1850, more than 1200, containing 1,446,015 volumes. 
There were 213 college libraries, containing 942,321 volumes. If 
we add those of the common schools, of Sunday-schools, and of 
churches, the whole number of volumes could not have been less 
than four millions and a half. Several of the public libraries are 
large and well-selected. That of Harvard College has more than 



DE. BAIED ON AMERICAN EDUCATION. 69 

85,000 volumes ; the Astor Library (at New York) has nearly, if not 
quite, as many ; the Philadelphia Library has more than 60,000 
volumes. The library of Congress has at least as many. 

The American Education Society, and its branches, aided last year 
610 young men who are preparing for the ministry, and the Board 
of Education of the Presbyterian Church aided 364 — in all 9*74 — 
belonging, with few exceptions, to the Congregational and Presby- 
terian churches alone. The Baptists, the Episcopalians, the Luther- 
ans, the Reformed Dutch, the Cumberland Presbyterians, and other 
evangelical churches, also take great and increasing interest in the 
subject of properly educating their young men for the sacred minis- 
try. We should not go too far if we were to say that it is probable 
that nearly, if not quite, 2000 pious young men in the United 
States are at this moment receiving assistance from some society or 
association, in their efforts to prepare themselves, as far as human 
training can go, to preach the Gospel ; and this at an expense of 
$250,000 at the least. It is not necessary for me to say that great 
numbers of young men receive no such assistance, because they do 
not need it. 

It may be proper to state here, that in addition to what is given to 
educate young men for the ministry, large sums of money are raised 
every year to found, or better endow, grammar-schools (or acade- 
mies, as they are often called with us), colleges, and theological sem- 
inaries, and this by nearly every Protestant branch of the Church. 
There are no less than 6 theological seminaries, 20 colleges, and 60 
academies, in possession, and under the direct control, of one branch 
(the Old-School) of the Presbyterian Church. The Methodists have 
24 colleges. The Baptists have 10 theological schools and faculties, 
and 25 colleges. And all the other denominations have each one 
or more colleges. These colleges are not sectarian, but decidedly 
religious. The Bible is read and studied — sometimes the catechism, 
but not generally. They are open to young men of every creed, and 
it is a rare thing to hear of proselytism in favor of any particular 
church, though proselytism in favor of the Gospel and all its bless- 
ings is earnestly pursued. 

There is no subject in which a greater interest is taken in the 



70 CHESTER DEWEY. 

United States, than that of education. Not only is much doing for 
both primary and superior education, but also for intermediate 
schools. Besides those just referred to, an immense number of fe- 
male academies have risen up, and many for boys. And lately, a 
movement has commenced in relation to establishing what may be 
called " People's Colleges? These are large schools, in which young 
men and young women — sons and daughters of farmers, mechanics, 
tradespeople, and others, who have received a common education in 
the primary schools, may, in the course of a year or two, or two or 
three winters, be far better instructed in the ordinary branches of 
education, and be taught the principles of the science which their 
future avocations may demand. Geography, history, grammar, some 
branches of mathematics and natural philosophy, the elements of 
chemistry, the Constitution of the United States, the art of writing 
and speaking with propriety, etc. — these are the subjects of study ; 
sometimes one or two modern languages, but seldom Greek or Latin. 
This is a very recent movement. There are in the State of New 
York at least 10 such colleges, some of them attended by 500, 600, 
and even 800 students. One of them had last year 1200 students, 
young people of both sexes, who lived in separate boarding-houses, 
occupied different parts of the same lecture-room, and listened to the 
same instructions. Under a strong moral and religious influence, 
these young people are taught to have confidence in themselves, and 
to respect each other. And it must be confessed that the experiment 
thus far works well. They are not children, but young men and 
women, influenced by the strongest desires to receive a better educa- 
tion than can be found in the ordinary schools. They have but a 
few months, or one or two years at most, to spare, and that with the 
greatest economy ; and they expect to return to the labors of an in- 
dustrial life. There are few things in America more interesting than 
this movement. It reminds one somewhat of the scholastic institu- 
tions of the Middle Ages." 




^. h?o 



~4s^LXj 



ROBERT BAIRD, 

THE INTERNATIONAL PREACHER. 



And hath made of one blood all nations of men, that they should seek the 
Lord, if haply they might feel after him and find him." 



The circumstances of Dr. Baird's life are peculiar. Their tendency 
has ever been to press him into notoriety, without any design on his 
part. He commenced his professional labors as the general agent of 
the American Sunday-School Union. The duties of this office 
brought him into close connection with Christians and philanthro- 
pists of all denominations, throughout the country. He resigned this 
agency to become the delegate to Europe of the " French Associa- 
tion." He was thus led to travel extensively on the Continent, to 
consult with kings, and join hands with the great and the good of 
the Old World. This experience eminently fitted him for the service 
of the Foreign Evangelical Society, in the employ of which he has 
crossed the ocean fourteen times, spent eight years in Europe, visited 
Syria, threaded the United States, and travelled not less than 
250,000 miles, or ten times the circuit of the globe. The knowledge 
of this country thus acquired, fitted him to be the accurate expounder 
of American institutions abroad ; while his thorough acquaintance 
with European politics, customs, and men, presented him to inquiring 
Americans as the reliable and interesting lecturer on the Old World. 
Thus has he been carrying on a system of intellectual exchanges, a 
legitimate commerce of information, on the principle of Supply and 
Demand. He has done more than any other man to enlighten Eu- 
rope in regard to the religious movements and characteristics of this 



72 • ROBERT BAIRD. 

country, and, on the other hand, to enlist the sympathies and assist- 
ance of the American church in efforts to reinvigorate, with a living 
Christianity, the religious systems of the Old World, enervated by 
errors, or prostrated under the weight of manifold ceremonies. It is 
gratifying to know the experience of such a man, with such an inter- 
national life ; to scan his early training, contrast the doings of matu- 
rer years, and glance at the unfolding of those traits which have 
proved the means of so much practical enlightenment. 

Rev. Robert Baird, D.D., was born on the 6th of October, 1*798, 
near Brownsville, Fayette county, in Western Pennsylvania. His 
father was a farmer. He was of Scottish descent ; his ancestors 
having been numbered among the old, unbending, persecuted Scotch 
Covenanters, and his grandfather having come to this country. His 
maternal ancestors were English and Welch. The family was unu- 
sually large ; Robert being one of thirteen. Eight of these reached 
maturity, most of whom are at this time residing not far from the 
old homestead, as worthy substantial farmers, or frugal farmers' 
wives. Robert was a farmer's boy. His early days were spent like 
those of all farmers' boys. He ploughed and hoed, and " did the 
chores ;" and during the winter months trudged to the village school, 
working as faithfully at geography and arithmetic, as in summer 
on furrow and sod. And is it not a fact worthy of attention, that 
such a large proportion of our great men were reared on Soildom ? 
A natural connection exists between such a training and future use- 
fulness. The life inures to toil, the influences are not debasing, the 
circumstances promote thrift, the associations are with Nature in her 
purity, and not with man in his selfishness. We will find that many 
of those who are now the working-men of the age — the effective 
philanthropists, the devoted patriots, the guiding statesmen, have had 
their early training in connection with a farm. 

Robert Baird manifested at the outset of life an unusual fond- 
ness for reading. Books were not then as common as stones. 
Moreover, Western Pennsylvania has never been distinguished for 
over-stocked magazines of literary treasures. They had in those 
good old days the " Family Bible," the " Shorter Catechism," and 
the " Spelling-Book," and these were nearly all. The boy Robert, 



HIS MOTHER. 73 

however, was peculiarly favored. He stumbled upon an edition of 
Morse's Geography, in two large octavo volumes, published in 17 91, 
and these he read through and through. The knowledge thence ob- 
tained by the farmer's boy, we doubt not, has oftentimes proved in 
dispensable to the European traveller. 

He also evinced, early in life, a remarkable memory. He gar- 
nered up the fruits of his reading. When he was about fourteen, he 
chanced to meet with a mock-sermon, written in German, and com- 
mitted it to memory. This he was often called upon to repeat for 
the amusement of friends, until finally he became the lion of all the 
" apple-bees" and " corn-huskings" in the region roundabout. The 
recital used to please these old Scotchmen. Indeed, the world is 
probably indebted to this Dutch sermon for the good Dr. Baird has 
accomplished, as a philanthropist and a scholar. Not that the ser- 
mon itself had much of good, but it happened that the popular reci- 
tals of young Robert came to the knowledge of the village pastor. He 
sent for the boy, and set a worthy example to his parishioners by 
listening attentively to the whole sermon, and then putting into in- 
stant practice the truth it presented. That truth was, that the boy- 
preacher was blessed with an excellent memory and a good mind, 
and that he must be sent to college. The parents had not dreamed 
of such a destiny for their boy, but the good man revealed to them 
what ought to be and must be. They had always listened reverently 
to the teachings of their pastor, and so it was decided that Robert 
should " have an education." We bless the good pastor for his in- 
fluence, and the parents for yielding to it. 

But now a great difficulty arose. How was the boy to be sup- 
ported? There were no "placers" on the farm, and thirteen 
mouths were a. goodly number to be filled. Ah ! these mothers ! 
What noble beings they are ! Robert was blessed with one who be • 
longed to that believing class, to whom " all things are possible.' 1 
Oh, she would attend to the boy's support, she said. She would 
weave the cloth and make his clothes ; she would sell butter, too, at 
the market, and the butter-money would buy his books and pay his 
board-bill. The thing could easily be done : and it was done. That 
mother supported her son through all his academical and collegiate 



74 EOBEET BAIED. 

course, by the proceeds of her churn. And she is not the only 
mother who has done the same thing. There are other good and 
great men, the cream of our nation, who have been churned through 
college. But shall we leave the matter, with all the credit posted on 
the mother's side ? No, she must share it with her son. We feel 
bound to repeat the report current, that his expenses, during his reg- 
ular course of education, were less than one hundred dollars per 
year. What think you of that, students of Cambridge and of Yale ! 
But, after all, these educational plans were well-nigh frustrated, 
in consequence of the very devotion that seemed to insure their suc- 
cess. In his sixteenth year, Robert was sent to a Latin school in 
Uniontown, some nine miles distant. He had never been from 
home before, and had never mingled with rough, rude boys. So, 
when he joined the school, it was all new, and strange, and trying 
to him. Moreover, he came in a homespun garb, and with a home- 
ly air. He was just the raw material out of which the older, 
shrewder boys could manufacture sport. And they went to work 
as if they had a high protective tariff to insure them. It is no 
wonder that the farmer's boy, fresh from all the attentions of his 
devoted mother, became insupportably " homesick." He could not 
endure such a life, and in two months he deserted. After remain- 
ing a while his spirits revived, and he was persuaded to return. 
But, in the mean time, his tormentors had enlarged operations, . and 
were all ready for a " smashing business." The poor fellow felt that 
he could not endure it, but he knew that a mother's heart was bent 
on the education of her son. He saw that a discontinuance of his 
studies would deeply grieve her. She wrote little to influence his 
decision, but he read her thoughts. It was harder to endure the 
silent reproach of a mother's disappointment than ifae abuse of a 
crowd of tyrant boys. The resolution was made to " endure unto 
the end." For one long session he continued on without a visit to 
his home. In that time he had conquered himself, and his fellows 
too. They had yielded to his mental superiority, as, gradually 
dawning upon them, it mounted above the clouds that obscured its 
rising, and with the year closed also his first trial. The remaining 
two years were among the happiest of his life. He had risen to the 



ENTERS COLLEGE. 



75 



head of the school. He was acknowledged to be without an equal. 
His old persecutors sought his assistance in their lessons, and he re- 
payed their treatment by " heaping coals of fire on their heads." 

In the summer of 1816, Mr. Baird entered Washington College, 
situated at Washington, the shire town of the county of the same 
name in Pennsylvania, connecting himself with the Sophomore class 
during its last term. Here he pursued his studies with even in- 
creased assiduity. His teacher at the Uniontown Academy, Dr. 
Dunlap, was an excellent man, but much advanced in years. Time 
had treated him roughly, and some of his mischievous pupils fol- 
lowed the example, paying little respect to the old man. With the 
dimness of age, the nice distinctions of classical literature also failed 
to be perceived. His government was feeble ana 1 his teachings su- 
perficial. Hence, when Mr. Baird came to college, he found that 
his classical knowledge was somewhat inaccurate and vague. But 
he did not, therefore, " take college life easy," and charge all defi- 
ciencies to his old teacher. These only proved a stimulus to in- 
creased exertion. In his junior year he went back to the beginning 
of his classical course, again took in hand the Latin and Greek 
grammar, and before the year had closed, numbered with the best. 
In the practice of composition, also, he was wholly inexperienced 
when he entered college. Up to this time he had not written a 
private letter. But he went vigorously to work. He wrote and 
destroyed, and wrote again, toiling on so perseveringly, that before 
graduation he held an enviable reputation,- even as a writer. As 
there was a precise time in his boyhood, when he resolved that he 
would bravely endure the persecution at school, for his mother's 
sake, so now there was a time when he resolved not to continue a 
crude writer, for his own sake. It was a disparaging remark by an 
officer of college that gave birth to this resolution, and when once 
made it must be maintained. Thus was the progress in education 
accomplished by steady advances, through faithful labor. 

Soon after he entered college he was invited to take charge of a 
class in the Sabbath-school. It was a class of negro boys, who 
could not read. His friendly feelings were moved towards those 
ignorant outcasts, and he consented. This seems a slight incident f 



76 ROBERT BAIRD. 

but it proved the turning point in his life. He had been religiously- 
educated, and was correct in his habits, yet at this time he did not 
esteem himself a Christian. But the teachings of the New Testa- 
ment, to his Sabbath class, induced reflection. He felt the wants 
of the religious nature. He listened to the voice of conscience. 
Those wants became more pressing, convictions of duty deepened, 
until he yielded to their force, and opened his soul for the indwell- 
ing of the Spirit. 

Most of the senior year was spent at Jefferson College. A se- 
rious dissatisfaction, with the President of Washington College, had 
arisen among the students. Fifty went off in a body. Mr. Baird 
was one of twenty who entered Jefferson. While there, his health 
failed under unremitting study, and he spent some months at iome. 

He was graduated with the reputation of being among the first 
scholars of his class. As no " honors" were awarded, his precise 
standing cannot be ascertained, but since, Jefferson .College has be- 
stowed her highest honor upon him, by inviting him to her Presi- 
dential Chair. This pressing invitation he saw fit to decline. He 
had become identified with the Foreign Evangelical Society, and 
her interests were dearer than the honors and emoluments of a 
Presidency, though wreathed with delightful associations, and made 
peculiarly desirable by the near residence of many friends. 

After his graduation, Mr. Baird was thrown upon his own re- 
sources for support, and plans for the future were left to his own 
decision, though he had not reached his twentieth year. His father 
gave him a patrimony of a horse and saddle, mounted on which, 
with all his worldly goods ensconced in a small portmanteau, he 
started forth. The first stage in life's journey was, however, soon 
brought to an end by his arrival at the town of Bellefont, Centre 
county, Pennsylvania, beautifully situated on the banks of the Sus- 
quehanna. Here he remained one year as the teacher of a select 
school of twenty young men, most of whom were older than him- 
self. During this year he taught, literally, every thing that he had 
previously studied at school and college, from simple Addition up to 
Moral and Intellectual Philosophy, and devoted not less .than six 
hours of each day to private study, reviewing every text-book that 



AS TEACHER. 



77 



he had studied in college. This training clinched the knowledge 
which is proverbially so evanescent. Besides this, he found time 
for a good amount of social intercourse, which he greatly enjoyed. 
Although so youthful, he was treated with the utmost respect and 
regard. His persevering, earnest habits, and his elevated character 
demanded these as their rightful tribute. Besides this, he followed 
in the true, independent path of Christian duty. Christianity was 
a living principle within him, and he could not but act the Chris- 
tian. This course was pursued, not so much for the sake of appeal- 
ing well, setting a good example, or, as it is sometimes expressed, 
" honoring one's profession," as because it was right. With the liv- 
ing, actuating principle within, he could not do otherwise. Thus, 
although he was the only young man in the village who professed 
Christianity, he always had devotional exercises in his school, and 
presented, wherever he was, an unequivocal, undisguised Christian 
example. He was governed by the higher law of conscience, and 
by no inferior motive of expediency. Hence he gained the respect 
of those who would not yield to the claims of Christianity. He was 
sincere, conscientious, and withal, high-minded, sensible, and socia- 
ble. Who would not respect such a character? The most de- 
praved re viler, and the most bitter skeptic, cannot so firmly grasp 
their regard, that it will not ascend as incense towards the well- 
balanced character and the man in earnest. 

During this year, also, he began the course of writing for the 
press, which has gone on increasing to this day. The village news- 
paper received his contributions. These were of a serious and in- 
structive character, though written in a lively style. They were 
evidently prompted by the desire of effecting good, and treated of 
prevailing vices unsparingly. The editor was a professed infidel, 
but the handwriting of Mr. Band «was an unfailing passport to his 
paper. 

From Bellefont he went directly to Princeton Theological Sem- 
inary — where he pursued his studies for three years. 

But how does the matter of self-support progress, since the mo- 
ther's churn and loom have ceased their contributions ? This is a 
subject of interest. He started in life, we mentioned, with a horse 



78 ROBERT BAIRD. 

and knapsack. His Rosinante he sold on reaching Bellefont, and 
from this sale, with the proceeds of his school, he paid his expenses 
of the year and left $200 in the bank. This sum furnished him 
with clothes and books during the Princeton course. For the first 
two years he was the private tutor of a few families in the place, 
and during the last year was tutor in the college. James W. Alex- 
ander was his private- pupil at that time. His brother, Professor 
Addison Alexander, was also a scholar of Mr. Band's subsequently. 

During his connection with the college, Mr. Baird gained great 
influence with the students. It was not in his nature to be impera- 
tive, but still he controlled. He was decided but not domineering, 
earnest but self-possessed, making due allowance for his pupils with- 
out compromising his own authority ; respecting their sentiments 
without losing respect for his own. He was himself a young man, 
and he sympathized with young men. He acquainted himself with 
their views, and listened to their reasonings in matters of difference. 
In this respect he strikingly resembled Professor Dewey, whose ex- 
cellent management has been described. These men have been 
equally successful as instructors — and the same principle of govern- 
ment was adopted by both — a principle which inculcates sympathy 
with the pupil, without the loss of respect ; the maintenance of law, 
without the exercise of tyranny; the appeal to reason before the 
rod, and to conscience rather than emulation. It is the system of 
government which leads the young to govern themselves. 

The year was full of interesting experiences, and some really thril- 
ling adventures were encountered. The attempted blowing up of 
the college buildings with gunpowder, which the students then at 
Princeton will never forget, occurred during that year. A young 
man, connected with one of the first families of the town, was de- 
tected in the act. It was an ©utrageous plot, but no one seemed 
ready to brave the personal danger and loss of influence which would 
attend the prosecution of the young reprobate, till Mr. Baird promptly 
stood in the breach. He had the young man arrested, and though 
his life was notoriously in danger, he cheerfully encountered the 
trial. 

This circumstance induces us to speak of the somewhat peculiar 



INFLUENCE AT COLLEGE. 79 

temperament of Mr. Baird. He is possessed of delicate sensibilities, 
so that he may easily become confused, and be deprived of perfect 
self-possession in emergencies of trifling moment, but when real exi- 
gencies occur, he is calm and reliable. 

Mr. Baird was also the means of quelling a serious rebellion by his 
individual influence. Some misunderstanding had arisen between 
the faculty and the students, and for three days not one came to re- 
citation except Mr. Baird's own class. Uproarious college meetings 
were constantly in session, and the spirit of "76 waxed fiercer and 
fiercer. On the morning of the fourth day, when matters seemed des- 
perate, Mr. Baird inquired of one of his class if the students would not 
candidly discuss the whole matter with him, and strive to come to an 
understanding. The proposition was readily accepted. The students 
were then in session, and a committee was appointed to request Tutor 
Baird to come and address them. As he entered the hall the pre- 
siding officer offered him the chair, but he declined it, for the reason 
that he had come to talk over matters, not to preside. Thereupon 
he asked them plainly to tell the cause of their trouble. It was 
stated, the matter was canvassed, and before the meeting closed the 
whole difficulty was amicably settled, and the students returned to 
duty. 

Much sorrow was expressed when Mr. Baird left at the close of the 
year. Students came, and, with undisguised emotion, thanked him 
for his kindness to them, and his interest in them. It was a good 
year of Mr. Baird's life, one that must rise in refreshing beauty before 
the eye of retrospection. 

After the completion of his theological studies, in the autumn of 
1822, Mr. Baird took charge of an academy in Princeton, and held 
the situation for five and a half years. His diffidence was, in his 
own opinion, a sufficient obstacle to his preaching. He, however, 
overcame the difficulty so far as to occupy occasionally the neighbor- 
ing pulpits. He might have continued teaching — of which he was 
very fond — during his life-time, had it not been for the entreaties of 
Rev. Mr. Gibson. This lamented servant of God had come to Prince- 
ton to die. He was a young man of uncommon talents, and a 
speaker of impassioned eloquence, but his body was not sufficient for 



80 ROBERT BAIRD. 

his great soul. When he had no longer strength to preach, he came 
to Princeton, that his last days might be spent in the place hal- 
lowed by the associations that cluster about a college life. Mr. Baird 
was much with him in his last sickness ; and as he lay upon his 
couch, he would implore him to preach — preach the Gospel, with 
almost the energy and solemnity of inspiration. The counsel of the 
dying man was not forgotten. 

We have now followed the life of Mr. Baird to the time when he 
entered wholly upon his professional duties. Mr. Baird's experience 
as an agent, in behalf of the religious societies of the American 
church, commenced in the year 1827. Having become deeply in- 
terested in the Nassau Hall Bible Society, while in the Seminary, 
he proposed to the members a plan for supplying every destitute 
family in the State of New Jersey with a copy of the Bible within 
one year. The plan was adopted, though with strong opposition, as 
the scheme appeared impracticable to many. Mr. Baird was chair- 
man of the committee appointed to carry it into execution. In six 
weeks the work was done, and 10,000 Bibles were distributed. 
During this campaign Mr. Baird travelled throughout the State. 
His ability in the work of benevolence was then tried, and his char- 
acter established. 

In the winter of 182*7-28, he was appointed by the American Bi- 
ble Society as their agent to Caraccas, in South America. He de- 
cided to go ; but at that time the discussion of the Apocryphal 
question coming up, so involved the society that the South American 
Mission was relinquished. Having decided, however, to close his 
school in the spring, he became General Agent of the New Jersey 
Missionary Society. While thus employed, he wrote a series of 
twenty articles on Education, setting forth the woeful destitution dis- 
covered during the Bible distribution. These were published in all 
the New Jersey papers, and excited universal attention. They em- 
bodied a correspondence in relation to school-systems, comprising 
letters from Governors Lincoln, Bell, and Parrie, John Holmes, Rev. 
Dr. Wayland, Roger Sherman, Mr. Flagg of New York, Rev. Dr. 
Hodge of Princeton, and Robert Vaux of Philadelphia. The Legis- 
lature in coming together took the subject in hand, and passed a bill 



FIRST TOUR IN EUROPE. 81 

which is the foundation of the present system of public-school educa- 
tion in that State. 

In the spring of 1829 Mr. Baird became General Agent of the 
American Sabbath-School Union, and removed his place of residence 
to Philadelphia. In this agency he travelled throughout the United 
States, held meetings from Portland to New Orleans, and was suc- 
cessful, not only in raising money, but in exciting a deep and gen- 
eral interest in the subject. When he entered on his duties, the 
revenue of this society w r as about $5000, and employed five or six 
laborers. When he retired from it in 1835, its revenue was $28,000, 
and it employed fifty laborers. His mode of conducting this enter- 
prise was somewhat peculiar. He addressed public meetings but 
little himself. He induced others to speak, engaging the services of 
effective orators, statesmen, and preachers. It was his custom to or- 
ganize the meetings, introduce the subject by a few remarks, and 
allow others to make the speeches. This proved an excellent method. 
At one meeting in New York twelve thousand dollars were col- 
lected. 

It was during this period that he wrote his first two volumes, the 
" View of the Valley of the Mississippi," and the " Memoirs of Anna 
Jane Linnard," both of which were well received by the public. 
The latter has been reprinted in England, Germany, and, we believe, 
in France. 

In 1835 Mr. Baird decided to go to Europe. His interest in the 
religious state of the Old World, awakened in early life, had been 
deepening for many years. When a school-boy at Uniontown, his 
attention had been drawn peculiarly towards France. He seems to 
have had a strange presentiment that his future life would, in some 
way, be connected with her spiritual interests. Since that time he 
had familiarized himself with European History. The accounts of 
the French Revolution of 1830 were read with avidity, and in 
1835 his long-cherished plans reached the point of their consum- 
mation. 

At Dr. Baird's suggestion, a Society had been formed in 1834, 
called " The French Association." Dr. Plummer, of Virginia, and 
Dr. Wisner, of Boston, were particularly active in its formation. As 

6 



82 ROBERT BAIRD. 

the agent of this society he sailed for Havre, with his family, in the 
ship Roland, 26th of February, 1835. He remained in Europe 
three years. The winter months he spent in Paris, promoting the 
objects of the Association ; writing and conducting an English ser- 
vice on the Sabbath. The first summer was spent in Switzerland, 
and during the first year a " History of Temperance Societies" was 
written, which has been published in the French, Swedish, Dutch, 
German, Grecian, Danish, Finnish, and Russian languages, and scat- 
tered broadcast over Europe. 

In the first tour made by Dr. Baird, in behalf of the temperance 
cause, he visited London, Hamburg, Copenhagen, Stockholm, Liebig, 
Berlin, Sweden, Frankfort-on-the-Maine, Amsterdam, Rotterdam, 
and Brussels. On this journey, he had interviews with most of tiie 
rulers of Europe. His philanthropic mission, and his gentlemanly 
bearing, gained him admission to the privacy of kings, and their 
hearty co-operation in his work. The fruits of this- expedition, and 
the impulse given to the cause of Temperance, together with the re- 
form in social life consequent upon it, have been published to the 
world, and we need not repeat the facts. 

In the spring of 1837 he removed from Paris to Italy, and spent 
three months in travelling over it, promoting the temperance ref- 
ormation, and gathering information in behalf of the "Association." 
In the winter 1837-38, he made a Northern tour through Europe, 
visiting Moscow, St. Petersburg, Berlin, Poland, Austria, and Ger- 
many. In the spring he returned to America, the objects of the 
"Association" having been accomplished. In the mean time the 
"Foreign Evangelical Society" had been formed, and in August, 
1839, Dr. Baird returned to Europe as its agent. In the winter of 
1839-40 he was severely sick, and endured a long confinement. 
The summer of 1840 was spent in another tour to the North of Eu- 
rope. He lectured throughout Sweden, speaking two or three times 
each day in behalf of Temperance. Enthusiasm was aroused in be- 
half of the cause, and great good effected. Some of the best Swedish 
orators were his efficient coadjutors. 

The summer of 1841, and the winter of 1842-43, were spent in 
this country, in lecturing in behalf of the Society. An unusual in- 



VARIOUS LABORS. 83 

terest was excited by his statements, and a virtual pledge was given 
by the American Church, that the work of evangelizing Europe 
should go on. 

During: the summer of 1842, he wrote the work entitled "Reli- 
gion in America," which has been published in the English, French, 
German, Dutch, Swedish, Italian, and Danish languages, and is now 
translated into Modern Greek and Armenian. In the autumn of 
1843, Dr. Baird brought his family to America, and labored in this 
country for the Evangelical Society till the spring of 1846, when he 
returned to Europe and remained abroad till February of lSiY. He 
went as a delegate to the World's Temperance Convention, held at 
Stockholm. Representatives from all parts of Christendom assem- 
bled there, and a great meeting it was. Ten years had elapsed since 
his pioneer tour through Europe in behalf of the reformation, and 
during that time, the seed he had scattered had taken root, and was 
bearing fruit a hundred-fold. Many thousands had enrolled them- 
selves in the Total Abstinence ranks throughout Norway, Denmark, 
and Holland. The Temperance Society in London numbered 100,000 
members, and that of Germany 1,000,000 ! 

In August of that year, 1846, he attended "The Evangelical Al- 
liance," which met in London, and took an active part in its delib- 
erations. During this year he visited Russia, Poland, Germany, 
Spain, Portugal, Italy, Greece, and Constantinople. On his return 
to this country, in February, 1847, he continued his labors in con- 
nection with the Foreign Evangelical Society, which were exceed- 
ingly varied and arduous. He was not only constantly employed 
as a general agent in preaching for the Society, but also in superin- 
tending the disbursement of funds, stationing of missionaries, em- 
ploying of colporteurs, conducting the extensive foreign correspond- 
ence, and editing the Society's Periodical. 

In the year 1851, he published a "Christian Retrospect and 
Register," a volume of 450 pages, 12mo. In the preparation of 
this work, Dr. Baird availed himself of the assistance of Profes- 
sor Martin, now of the University of the city of New York, as well 
as of his son, now Rev. Charles W. Baird. In July of the same 
year, he went to Europe again, mainly on account of his health ; 



84: ROBERT BAIRD. 

and spent five months in travelling through England, Scotland, Ire- 
land, France, Belgium, Holland, Germany, Hungary, Italy, and 
Switzerland. One of the objects he had in view, was to attend an 
important meeting of Protestants from all parts of the globe, which 
had been called by the British Branch of the Evangelical Alliance. 
There he read a report on the " State and Prospects of Christianity 
in the United States," which was published in the volume contain- 
ing the proceedings of the meeting, as well as in a pamphlet form, 
together with a speech delivered by him on the same occasion, in 
relation to American Slavery. Six thousand copies were published 
and circulated through Great Britain, Ireland, the Continent, and 
America. 

In May, 1855, Dr. Baird resigned the office of Corresponding 
Secretary of the American and Foreign Christian Union, to devote 
a few years to the preparation of several works, chiefly relating to 
the moral and religious state of the world, which he had for years 
contemplated, but had found impracticable while the burden of offi- 
cial responsibility rested upon him. Nevertheless, he accepted, at 
the request of the Board of Directors, a mission of two or three 
months to Europe, to look after the operations of the Society in Ire- 
land, France, Belgium, and Italy. This would enable him to attend 
an important meeting of Protestants in Paris, similar to the one 
held at London in 1851, as well as the Kirchentag, a conference of 
Evangelical Christians held annually in Germany for five years 
past. With this service terminated Dr. Baird's connection with 
the Keligious Societies in which he had been engaged for twenty- 
seven years : first, for the cause of Secular Education (as an 
Agent of the New Jersey Missionary Society) ; next, for the cause 
of Religious Education, in connection with the American Sunday- 
School Union ; and lastly, for the promotion of Evangelical Chris- 
tianity in Papal lands. 

Dr. Baird is engaged, with but little respite, in delivering his 
course of lectures on Europe. These he has repeated about one 
hundred times in various parts of the country. They are popular, 
and deservedly so. They present a view of Europe as it is, which is 
clear and graphic. Each country is treated of with respect to its 



CHARACTERISTICS LECTURES. 85 

geography, government, literature, religion, social life, great men, 
the distinctive characteristics of its people, and whatever subjects of 
special interest may pertain to it. 

Dr. Baird possesses some elements of character which peculiarly 
fit him for the preparation and presentation of such a course of lec- 
tures. In the first place, his memory is unyieldingly tenacious. 

2. His habits of observation. He hears, sees, and knows, what 
passes before him. 

3. His universality. He is not limited in his intercourse, or in 
his investigations, by any sect or party. While in Europe he min- 
gled with all classes, kings and beggars, priests and laymen, Catho- 
lics and Protestants, rich and poor, bond and free. 

4. His candor. His tendency is to recognize the truth wherever 
it is. He sees things very much as they are, and when looking over 
the world wears colored glasses as little as possible. Still he is de- 
cided in his own tastes and opinions. 

5. His urbanity. This has insured him an easy intercourse with 
all classes, and has given him the opportunity for information which 
his universality has enabled him to improve. 

On the other hand, there are faults in his lectures which seem to 
some considerable. They lack condensation : there is repetition, and 
some peculiarities of expression. He is inclined to enlarge, episode, 
and state facts which every one is supposed to know. But towards 
these defects we are constrained to be lenient, because they are the 
necessary consequence of the amount of labor imposed on him. He 
has no time to write out his lectures, or to thoroughly systematize 
them. They are not speeches, but the familiar fireside conversations 
of an intelligent and communicative traveller. One is admitted to 
the undress of a good conversationist, who will talk improvingly for 
two hours, without requiring you to say a word. We esteem such 
a favor, and do not feel inclined to criticise looseness of style or 
length of discourse. 

In this criticism of Dr. Baird's lectures, we have given a partial 
summary of his character. Two or three other points we would 
briefly present. Dr. Baird is a man of the people, in sympathy with 
the people, earnest for the rights of the people. His democracy is 



5b ROBERT BATED. 

humanity, and his humanity is Christian love. It is not the democ- 
racy that prates on the platform, and scorns honest poverty from its 
door ; that lauds the elevation of the masses, and withers with its 
unfeeling contempt the upward stragglings of genius. It is not the 
humanity that endows seminaries, and gives no moment for mental 
culture to its servant ; that subscribes thousands to benevolent insti- 
tutions, and grinds the face of the poor. His is a democracy that 
acts more than it talks, and a humanity that feels more than it can 
act. In this connection we quote the following paragraph from an 
article by Dr. Baird on " Our Age — its Progress, Prospects, and De- 
mands." 

" There are at this moment two great struggles going on in the 
world — the like of which the world has never before seen. One is 
the mighty movement which men are making in behalf of political 
liberty ; the other is that which is making in some directions in be- 
half of religious freedom. Of these two movements, as might be ex- 
pected, that which relates merely to political liberty, to that which 
is material, is much more powerful than that relating to the spirit- 
ual. Whole nations are rising up to shake off the yoke of despotism 
beneath which they have so long groaned. In this great movement, 
it is not simply the struggle of the higher classes — the nobles and 
other powerful citizens — the " upper ten thousand" of society — who 
are striving to throw off a superior despotism which rests heavily 
upon them. But it is the " masses," the despised masses, who have 
in many countries been crushed to the ground by feudal tyranny. 
It is the poor, degraded, ignorant people, who had but little encour- 
agement given them to attempt to rise above the abject condition in 
which they were born, and who have been trodden into the very 
dust by the heel of a proud and insolent aristocracy." 

His heart is in sympathy with the Progress of the Age. We do 
not use this term in a cant way. There is a Progress of the Age 
towards freedom, freedom of thought, freedom of person, freedom of 
opinion, freedom of soul. We make the following extract as illus- 
trative : 

"Intimately connected with, and in fact consequent upon, this 
wide and rapid diffusion of opinion, of argument, of light, we behold 



PERSONAL DESCRIPTION. 87 

a mighty awakening of the human mind to question and investigate 
anew every subject. There is an increasing disposition to take 
nothing on authority, to receive nothing merely as tradition. Every 
thing in science, morals, religion, politics, economy, and even law, 
must be re-examined, re-judged, and re-decided. A momentous rev- 
olution is going forward in the moral, religious, and scientific world. 
Whatever cannot stand the test of the most rigid scrutiny, is reject- 
ed as useless, if not pernicious. 

" In this great movement and collision of mind, what a change is 
coming over the political world ! Nations are rising up to interro- 
gate the tyrants who have held them in subjection, and to compel 
them to concede the just rights of the people, or retire from their 
thrones. At length, mankind are assuming an erect posture, and 
demanding that the governments which they must obey shall be 
such as they themselves choose to establish. They are beginning to 
think that whilst it is unquestionable that God has ordained order 
and government for the nations, He has left its forms and details to 
those who are to be its subjects." 

In personal appearance Dr. Baird is prepossessing. He is nearly 
six feet in height, stout in proportion, with fresh complexion, regular 
features, large blue eyes, and a fine forehead. He stoops somewhat, 
especially when in the pulpit. It is a habit induced, we apprehend, 
by natural diffidence. He was married at Philadelphia, August 24, 
1824, to Miss Dubuisson. He has four sons living. Eev. Charles 
W. Baird, though only twenty-seven, has a desirable reputation as a 
writer both of history and of poetry. He is the author of " Eutaxia, 
or the Presbyterian Liturgies," a work which has enlisted considera- 
ble interest. Henry M. Baird, a younger brother, is publishing a 
valuable work, entitled " Athens and Greece, or a Year on Classic 
Ground." Dr. Band's home-life has been of the happiest. 

The productions of Dr. Baird's pen have been numerous, and re- 
markably so, considering his other arduous labors, and the many and 
long journeys he has made. Besides editing two monthly publica- 
tions from 1847 to 1855, he has made contributions to the monthly 
and quarterly reviews, both American and foreign, many of which 
are of permanent value. 



88 KOBERT BAIRD. 

Besides these works, Dr. Baird has written much for the newspa- 
pers. His style is well adapted to this department. It is easy and 
flowing, popular and pithy. He has written several series of Euro- 
pean letters for the "Commercial Advertiser," "Journal of Com- 
merce," and " N. Y. Evangelist." The series over the signature of 
" Americanus," in the " Commercial Advertiser," reached the num- 
ber of one hundred and twenty. 

"We subjoin a list of his most important works : 

PUBLISHED 

1. View of the Valley of the Mississippi 1832 

2. Life of Anna Jane Linnard 1834 

3. Letter to Lord Brougham 1835 

4. Life of the Eev. Joseph Sandford 1836 

5. History of the Temperance Societies 1836 

6. L' Union de l'Eglise avec l'Etat dans la Nouvelle Angleterre 1837 

7. Transplanted Flowers 1839 

8. Visit to Northern Europe (2 vols.) 1841 

9. Keligion in America, in England (1 vol., 720 pp.) 1843 

10. Protestantism in Italy 1845 

11. Christian Eetrospect and Kegister 1851 

12. State and Prospects of Keligion in the United States 1851 

Dr. Baird has striven to leave the world better than he found it. 
With this end in view Heaven has furnished the means. The way 
of doing good has always been open before him, and he has had no 
concern otherwise than to press on in it. 

Blest is the man who finds his place and fills it ! Be he known 
or unknown, rich or poor, it matters little. He has done what it 
was his duty to do. " Father, I have accomplished that whereunto 
thou didst send me." 



JOHN P. DURBIN, 

THE PIONEER PREACHER. 



" The roice of him that crieth in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the 
Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God." 



Sincere joy must live in the soul of one, who, starting in life with 
no other impelling power than the honest desire for self-improve- 
ment and for other's good, finds, when the days of a half century 
have rolled by, that he actually is, and that he really does. The 
contrast of boyhood, ignorance, and unimportance, with age, ex- 
perience, and influence, is striking and agreeable. He need not be 
self-sufficient, but he may be grateful ; not arrogant, but happy. He 
started forty or fifty years ago to do a w T ork, and the work is done. 

He started to be, and he has become ; to do, and he has achieved. 
He started with no guide but the light of Heaven, and no companion 
but the " rod and the staff," to thread the wilderness of life ; yet, as 
he passed on, a way opened among the trees. He started with no 
encouragement save his own heroism, but this has carried him over 
mountain obstacles, and bridged many a morass of despondency. He 
started ignorant, and he has become learned ; he started weak, and 
he has become strong ; he started unknown, and he has become re- 
nowned ; he started with shadowy anticipations, and he looks back 
on substantial facts ; he went forth, " weeping, bearing precious seed," 
and he has " come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with 
him." 

And more than this, he has been all the while achieving for the 
advancement of humanity. He has been shedding light, dispelling 
error, staying crime, removing " sorrow, wrong, and trouble" from 



90 JOHN P. DTTRBIN. 

the earth. Should he not rejoice ? And although there is much in 
his retrospection to evoke the sigh and start the tear, although the 
best must recall barren days, wasted opportunities, mistaken views, 
and by-path wanderings, yet the recollection of these should mellow, 
not mar the joy. Dr. Durbin was once a poor apprentice-boy ; and 
at the age of eighteen could do little more, in an intellectual way, 
than read and write, and these by no means excellently. His early 
life was spent in Kentucky. His parents resided in Bourbon county 
of that State, and his father was a farmer in moderate circumstances. 
In 1814, when he was fourteen years of age, he commenced an ap- 
prenticeship in a cabinet-maker's shop, where he remained three 
years. After this he worked one year at his trade, during which 
time he became seriously impressed with religious truths, and at last 
rejoiced in the possession of the Christian's hope and the Christian's 
peace. Then a Saviour's love so touched the inmost springs of being, 
that he felt a holy impulse to set before others the light which had 
beamed so brightly and warmly on his own spirit. And the impulse 
was so resistless that he relinquished business, and in two months 
had joined the Western Conference, and commenced his labors, as a 
pioneer and preacher, in Ohio and Indiana. This field of labor was 
extensive, for the places at which he regularly preached could hardly 
be included in a circumference of three hundred miles. 

It will excite the surprise of some that Mr. Durbin could have 
ventured, or should have been permitted, to enter upon the great 
work of a preacher at so early an age, and with such limited acquire- 
ments. He had numbered as yet only eighteen years, and had re- 
ceived not even an ordinary New England public-school education. 
Moreover, the only library to which he had access was readily dis- 
posed of on his father's mantel-piece, being composed of three vol- 
umes — the Bible, Scott's First Lessons, and an old English history. 
To be sure, Mr. Durbin had what some one styles " the best work on 
theology extant" — the Bible ; but all commentaries, exegeses, evi- 
dences, church histories, &c, usually considered an essential outfit of 
a soldier of the Cross, unfortunately did not fall in his way. Not- 
withstanding, he preached with vigor and effect, and his labors 
were greatly blessed. What conclusion shall be derived from this 



BOOK-EDUCATION. 91 

fact ? That learning is not essential to the preacher ? By no means. 
Dr. Durbin himself would not so conclude. His future course of se- 
vere and unremitted study in philosophy, languages, and science, is a 
practical demonstration that he of all men least' underrates the value 
of an education gained from books. The truth is, that Mr. Durbin 
had unusual native vigor and force of mind. In default of external 
assistance from books, he could rely on his own genius and be sus- 
tained. He was naturally a fluent and effective speaker. He could 
utter the good thought in him so that others could receive it in its 
length, breadth, and true bearings. He had, also, a knowledge 
which may be, but is not necessarily derived from books — a knowl- 
edge of human nature. This he could acquire, and did acquire, 
from the great book of humanity, which is open to all. He knew 
the avenues to the human heart ; he could touch its secret springs, 
and analyze its hidden workings. Nay, more, he had a heart of his 
own, into which he had often searchingly looked. There he had 
seen the reflex of the heart of his brother man. He had closely 
questioned his own spirit, and the answerings had been worth a li- 
brary to him. In this lies the source of his power and the secret of 
his success. And this self-knowledge is the source of the power of 
every powerfully-minded man. Mere facts are of little worth, except 
as connected with and subservient to principles. The noblest 
thoughts, the most poetical imaginings, the sublimest truths are pow- 
erless as the sound of last year's running water, or the rushing of 
last year's wind, unless there be already in the soul something which 
answers to them. Mere reading cannot give this something. It is 
the product of an inward growth, nurtured by reflection, and brought 
out by experience. Hence it is that to some people the highest poe- 
try is no better than "sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal." 
Hence it is that the deep things of philosophy are to some minds 
" transcendental." Hence the Jews said, in reply to the earnest de- 
livery of holiest truths, " These men are full of new wine." We 
would not undervalue " book-learning," but we note the fact that 
some of our completest orators have become so with little aid from 
books. Take John B. Gough as an example — perhaps the most 
genuine orator of to-day ; and yet Gough has not attended school 



92 JOHH P. DUBBHT. 

since he was twelve years old. Ye: he has studied — studied nature, 
studied men. studied himself. It is to this study that that of books 
must be subservient and conducive. They should be employed as 
helps to this end. They are great helps. Few men can succeed 
without them ; no man. unless he is gifted with uncommon aettte- 
ness and force of mind, and a native disposition to reflect and ob- 
serve. So far from undervaluing a regular collegiate e ication, we 
deem it in most cases essential. The dangers arising to a religious 
teacher from the lack of it are many and great. The " self-e In : ate 1" 
man is liable to become the self-conceited, pedantic, and obtrusive 
man. Mr. Durbin escaped its dangers, until a regular coarse of 
study removed them forever. From the outset he valued the educa- 
tion of books and teachers, and hence, as he was riding >n horseback 
through his circuit, in that new and sparsely-settled country, he 
studied the English Grammar, preparatory to an i course. 

"We have dwelt longer on this part of the history, because it is the 
interesting feature of Dr. Dorian's life ; that, an unlettered lad of 
eighteen, he should have passed from work-bench to pulpit ; that, 
after entrance on active professional duty, he should have bent him- 
self to the regular routine of school; that he should have fulfilled 
these tasks without interruption to preaching, and that he should 
have at last attained his present position as a theologian, a scholar, 
and an orator, eminent in the very departments to which he was at 
first a stranger and an alien, are foots war toy of being dwelt o 
and talked about. 

There is another fact worth noticing. ^*e refer t a the impulse 
given to the m£ ' ei by Christianity, Mr. I 1 '.;::::::, previous to be- 
coming a Christian, had not read or studied move than other boys — 
perhaps not b ] much as many do in similar circumstances. He had 
worked regularly at his trade, and spent leisure hours, as mast t ■: ys 
do, in no particular way. But now it is all changed witib him : now 
he studies English grammar on horseback : now he preaches from 
place to place ; now he spends hour after hour of the night in stor- 
ing and training his mind. How is this ! Is he ambitious ! Not at 
all. He has simply become a Christian, and the world is a new 
world to him. It is a place in which to be and to do — not for one's 



FIEST VISIT TO NEW YORK. 93 

own sake, but for Christ's sake. The perfect man is the standard ; 
and as for the good to be done, why the whole earth groans under 
the weight of it, and the heavens cry out for workmen to do it. A 
new zest is given to life ; a fine enthusiasm fires his spirit ; pro- 
gress, improvement, development, are his id^as : and this is the fruit 
of Christianity. 

In 1821 Mr.Durbin connected himself with the Miami University, 
and commenced the study of Latin and Greek. While thus pushing 
his studies he did not relinquish preaching, but, being stationed at 
Hamilton, a town twelve miles distant, walked to his church at the 
close of each w r eek, and " divided the word of truth." In the year 
1823, being now twenty-three years of age, he became a member of 
Cincinnati College, and was graduated in 1825. There his appli- 
cation to study was so severe as to injure materially his health ; so 
that, on leaving college, he travelled through the South for one year 
as agent in behalf of Augusta College. This service he enjoyed, 
and profited by its advantages. His circle of friends was enlarged, 
and health benefited. 

Mr. Durbin received the second degree of Master of Arts at grad- 
uation. It was a marked tribute to his energy and acquirements, 
and its agreeableness was enhanced by the fact, that it w T as conferred 
at the suggestion of William Henry Harrison, afterwards President 
of the United States. During the same year (1826), he made his 
first visit to New York. That visit is well remembered by many a 
one who was charmed by his oratory, or impressed by his appeals. 
His uncommon extempore, united to a youthful appearance, and the 
fact of early disadvantages, created a marked sensation. His voice 
was in constant demand, either on the platform before crowded au- 
diences, or in the social circle. He was a star in the metropolis of 
the Union, no slight transition from the work-bench in a frontier 
village. But it did not cost him his modesty. He received the at- 
tentions quietly, effected all the good he might, and then returned 
to duty at the South. His sphere, meanwhile, had been enlarged. 
The Publican of Augusta College was made a Professor. From 
1826 to 1831 he filled the Professorship of Ancient Languages. 
This position afforded opportunity for higher studies. It was sedu- 



94: JOHN P. DURBIN. 

lously improved, and to the course of life at this time, more than to 
any other period, is Dr. Durbin indebted for the freedom from tech- 
nicality, provincialism, and inaccuracy which marks his style. 

In the winter of 1831-32 Dr. Durbin resided at Washington, 
having been elected Chaplain of the United States Senate. There 
he was a favorite. Henry Clay spoke of him as one of the best ora- 
tors he had ever heard, whether connected with Church or State. 
Abel Stevens, editor of the National Magazine, says — 

" His sermons in the capitol are remembered still for their pun- 
gency and power. It fell to his lot, by vote of the House, and 
requisition from Mr. Clay, the chairman, to preach the sermon in 
the capitol on the one hundredth birthday of General Washington. 
Both houses and the Supreme Court adjourned, and such an audi- 
ence probably has never, before or since, been seen in the capitol. 
When the slender form of the preacher appeared in the speaker's 
desk, before the vast and august assembly, there was a slight tremor 
of apprehension in the throng ; and the western members felt special 
solicitude. The tune of Old Hundred resounded through the vast 
hall, and was followed by the clear, composed, and peculiar voice of 
the preacher in prayer ; and all hearts were quieted. The text was 
Rev. iv. 11, 'Thou art worthy, Lord, to receive glory, and honor, 
and power : for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure 
they are and were created.' The whole drift of the sermon was to 
show the agency of God in our Revolution, and that the prosperity 
of the country depended upon morals and religion ; there was no 
effort at display in it ; but more than usual directness, plainness, and 
earnestness. It had all the characteristic effect of his discourses. 
At the close of the service, as he descended from the speaker's chair, 
Governor Wickliff, of Kentucky, took him by the hand and said : ' I 
advise you never to preach again, if you have regard to your repu- 
tation. You never can see such another day as this ; and I doubt 
whether you can do such another deed as you have done to-day. 
The preacher bowed and was silent." 

In the spring of 1832 he was elected to the Professorship of Nat- 
ural Sciences in the Wesleyan University, but resigned on being 
chosen soon after, by the General Conference, Editor of " The Chris- 



ORATORY. 95 

tian Advocate and Journal," the New York organ of the Metho- 
dists. 

In 1834 he was made President of Dickinson College, an appoint- 
ment so unexpected, that the first hint of it came with the congratu- 
lations of a friend in the street. He held that post till 1845, when 
he resumed preaching at Philadelphia, where he now resides. 

In April, 1842, he went to Europe and the East, returning in Au- 
gust, 1843. The Harpers published the written results of his travels 
in four volumes. These works are condensed in expression, lively in 
tone, and instructive in details. Reflections upon governments and 
religions are interwoven in sufficient but not excessive quantity. 
Over ten thousand copies have been demanded by the public. 

In 1850 he was unanimously appointed, by the Bishops, Mission- 
ary Secretary, in the place of Dr. Pitman, who resigned on account 
of ill health. The General Conference of 1852 reappointed him to 
the same post, which he now holds. 

Dr. Durbin shines pre-eminently on the platform. He is an ora- 
tor in the true sense of the term. He can arouse the sympathies, 
move the passions, convince the understanding, and charm the fancy. 
He has the .elements of character which go to make up a popular 
speaker. His command of language is unbounded. Never at a loss 
for a word, his sentences pour out with the ease and smoothness of 
flowing oil. He has also a vein of pleasantry, which, at times, rises 
into humor, and which he uses with discrimination and success. He 
is always self-possessed. No attack of an opponent, no unexpected 
call before an audience, no unforeseen accident can tip the balance 
of his self-control. He has a good degree of fancy, and can paint a 
scene with harmonious and lively coloring. His voice is not supe- 
rior. It lacks volume, but is not disagreeable. His manner and 
modulation are, however, at times, strikingly at fault. At the com- 
mencement of his speeches he occasionally has an unfortunate way 
of drawling his words in a monotonous, inefficient, feeble style, the 
sentences "dragging their slow length along," like Alexandrine 
verse. How he should have fallen into this way is a puzzle, for it is 
so dissonant with his character. It deserves censure, because there 
is no need of it, as is seen from the fact that, as he advances in a 



96 JOHN P. DUBBIN. 

speech, he drops it, as Bunyan's Pilgrim let go his burden, and starts 
on with energy, life, and animation. At first it seemed as if there 
were no strength of body, no activity of mind, and no interest of 
heart ; but now all is warmth, enthusiasm, and thought. His success 
on the platform is very different on different occasions, as his remarks 
are entirely extempore, and he always trusts to the occasion for the 
impulse necessary to the formation of sentences. Thus he occasion- 
ally fails in getting " warmed up ;" while, at times, he wields the 
wand of eloquence with a master's hand. He is a superior debater, 
and always successful ; but he never sets foot in the arena of discus- 
sion until others have exhausted the subject to the extent of their 
ability. Then he presents himself, reviews the whole ground, sums 
up the argument, and virtually decides the question. 

The characteristic of Dr. Durbin's mind is its practical cast. It 
has to do with facts rather than with theories. He is a man of de- 
tails, one who attends to the minutiae of whatever is before him. 
He observes every thing with a closeness which is astonishing. 
Nothing escapes his scrutiny, not even signboards as he walks 
the street. Hence he proves an excellent working man. He will 
carry out a plan to the minutest detail with unwavering success. 
He makes an admirable financier, and a most able Society secretary. 
There are no loose screws in the machinery under his control. 
When he was President of Dickinson College, the finances of the in- 
stitution were in perfect order. There was always money to pay 
debts on the day they became due. 

He is not a philosopher in the highest sense of the term. He 
does not revel in pure thought. Abstract principles he does not dis- 
cuss, and to the higher philosophical theories he pays little attention. 
" Transcendentalism" is to him a bank of fog which the light of ge- 
nius may illuminate, but cannot dissipate. We do not mean that he 
is so fond of facts as to disregard principles, or so nice in details as 
to forget generalizations, but his power lies in sound and shrewd 
conclusions from observation rather than from speculation. Natural 
sciences are in accordance with his tastes. He is familiar with the 
principles of geology, and his lectures to the students at the college 
on that science, which is usually deemed as dry and hard as the 



APPEARANCE. 97 

rocks of which it treats, were listened to with avidity. So in the 
principles of government and of political economy he is well versed, 
and ethnology he has pursued with zeal. Some of our readers have 
seen a treatise, which he published, on the harmony between the 
Mosaic account of the Creation and the discoveries of Geology. In 
sentiment and opinion he would be ranked as a conservative. He is 
neither ultra in notions nor rash in conclusions. He regards subjects 
with candor, and comprehends all opposing facts. 

In preaching, he succeeds in keeping out of the beaten track both 
of thought and of expression. He avoids those phrases which have 
become so familiar as to savor of cant. Hence some unreflecting 
people have esteemed him speculative, because his views were 
simply novel, when no man is less so. Practical is his chosen ad- 
jective. 

His memory of facts and of thoughts is tenacious, but of words it 
is slippery. He cannot commit sentences to memory, and hence the 
hearer may never be alarmed lest his extempore eloquence has been 
" cut and dried." 

Dr. Durbin has done much to elevate and establish the Methodist 
Church in this country. Perhaps he has done no more than some 
others, but he has fulfilled his proportion. In almost every depart- 
ment of labor he has been stationed, and has shown himself a profit- 
able servant. He has written considerably for the religious papers, 
and for the Methodist Quarterly Review. In this latter admirable 
publication will be found able critiques on " Guizot's History of Civ- 
ilization," and " Butler's Analogy." 

Mr. Stevens well describes his appearance as follows : 

" Dr. Durbin is slight in person, but apparently in excellent health. 
He walks with a light, elastic step. We know not but that he must 
consent to be placed in the glorious class of ' homely men,' who fill 
so largely the annals of greatness. "We once thought this his in- 
evitable allotment ; but by closer and more familiar observation, or 
perhaps the * fascination' of that indefinable — some would call it 
mesmeric — influence which usually accompanies men of genius, we 
have been tempted to change our mind, and there is a lurking dis- 
position about our heart to consider him a decidedly interesting- 



98 JOHN P. DURBIN. 

looking man. His head is diminutive, nearly as outright a refuta- 
tion of phrenology as that of the late Dr. Charming, or Bancroft, or 
Bishop Simpson, another of the leading men of his own church ; his 
eyes are blue ; his nose small, and slightly upturned (for which he 
may claim brotherhood with Pitt, Burke, and other notabilities) ; 
his mouth is remarkable for its characteristic expression ; it indicates 
great firmness, and the lines from the nostrils to its corners are dis- 
tinctly marked. His hair is slightly sprinkled with gray. His com- 
plexion is somewhat sanguine — it glows with good health, and re- 
minds you not of the suffused floridness of the English face, I .;: : 
the less tumid and more embrowned countenance of the continental 
Europeans. 

u After all, it is not the features, as far as the bare lineaments may 
be so called, that give characteristic expression to the human face, 
just as it is not the mere verbal expression of a writer that constitutes 
his style. There is a subtile, general, indescribable something — in- 
describable because of its exquisite subtilty and spiritual significance, 
which renders alike the features and the style of a man instinct with 
his soul, and with even his individual characteristics. The highest 
perfection of art consists in the ability to give to the canvas or the 
marble this visible animus of the man. Dr. Durbin's face is strongly 
marked in this respect ; his smile is especially expressive ; it plays 
with outbeaming radiance, and is usually enhanced by some accom- 
panying gesture expressive of refined courtesy. The intellectual and 
moral indication of the countenance is especially significant in his 
preaching. In his more emphatic passages his features glow, and 
his eyes radiate an electrical fire which darts with resistless effect 
among his hearers. 

" His voice is peculiar : there seems to be an organic defect about 
it It cannot be called feminine, nor squealing ; but you are induced 
to suppose that it would have been decidedly one or the other were 
it not for assiduous cultivation, by which he has subdued it into 
perfect control. He uses it as a well-trained musician uses his in- 
strument, and though far from musical, it is not disagreeable. It 
drawls somewhat, and on its higher keys becomes harsh ; but it is 
seldom raised above an agreeable colloquial tone. 



CONCLUSION. 99 

" We have no hesitancy in pronouncing Dr. Durbin the most in- 
teresting preacher now in the Methodist pulpit. We gave Olin this 
distinction once, but it remains now with Durbin. Others there are 
who excel him in particular respects, but none that equal him either 
in popular effect or in the interest of intelligent, thoughtful minds. 
His sermons are usually long, but no one tires with them ; no one 
hears the last sentence without regret, nor leaves the church without 
a vivid, if not a profound impression of the discourse." 

Thus are briefly sketched the prominent points of Dr. Durbin's life 
and character. The wide scope of experience imparts peculiar inter- 
est. A pioneer circuit, a college agency, a professorship, a Senate 
chaplaincy, a college presidency, an editorship, a pastorate, and a 
mission secretaryship, all worthily filled by one man, whose life is 
yet at its meridian, make a rare group. Yet not so much the va- 
riety of the life, as the contrast of its commencement, is the attrac- 
tion. The greatness of result is enhanced by the minuteness of be- 
ginning. It is the obstacles overcome which give grandeur to 
achievement. It is shadow depth which heightens light. Other 
men have been presidents of colleges and chaplains of senates, but 
they were not all reared in humble circumstances, bound down by 
poverty ; unblessed by schools, unadmitted to libraries, unaided by 
teachers ; apprenticed to a work-bench, yet struggling on, and fight- 
ing the way up ; watchful of opportunities ; snatching wayside facil- 
ities ; gathering " line upon line, line upon line, here a little and 
there a little ;" borrowing a history of one, buying a grammar of 
another; reading in kitchen corners; studying in log-cabins by 
pine-knot light, and on horseback through the woods ; holding to 
the course perseveringly, steadily, calmly, unwaveringly ; following 
the path which opens ; doing the work which offers ; until the day 
be past, ar.d " Well done" be spoken by the all-observant Master. 



THE PIOXEER PREACHER. 



1 ' Xow when they saw the boldness of Peter and John, and perceived 
t'urv were unlearned and ignorant men. they marrelled ; and they took 
knowledge of them thai they had been with Jesus." 



America has always had its frontier country, and tie An eric an 
pulpit its pioneer preachers. A long future wul be like the past 
Until the tide of civilization shall reach its Pacific finis, there wffl 
be the axe, the rifle, the saddle-bags, and the stamp: there will 
be a strip of country on which the day of : i i-ization is dawning. 
Our volume prould be incomplete did it not discuss, somewhat at 
length, this anomaly to the Old World, and this characteristic of the 
New — the pioneer preacher. 

Passing by the honored names and great "irk of Elliott, Bra: - 
nerd, and others, as belonging to a past beyond our prescribed 
limits, we shall treat of the pioneer movements of the Methodists, 
omitting also desirable mention of the important doings of other de- 
nominations on the Western frontier, the Baptists, Presbyterians, 
and Congregationalists. as having received more attention from the 
historian, and as being, perhaps, less instinctive, eharacterist::. and 
universal. 

Of the Methodists, we have selected the name of John P. Durbin 
to introduce this chapter : not because he is u rfwaned the mast re- 
markable pioneer preacher of the century, but because, of the Meth- 
odist preachers, who have served in the frontier campaign, and wh< 
are, at this present, of active and prominent influence in the church, 
he is esteemed the nx ' suable representative. 

In order that the Methodism of the West may be properly ire- 



, 



CHRISTIAN FREDERICK POST. 101 

Bented to the intelligence of the reader, it will be well to outline the 
prominent features of the last third of the preceding century.* 

The defeat of the English before Fort Duquesne, under the ill- 
fated Braddock, in 1755,'did not root out the desire to wrest that 
strong position from the French ; and for this purpose General 
Forbes was placed at the head of an expedition. It was deemed, 
however, essential to success that he be preceded by some person 
with gifts adapted to win the minds of the indomitable inhabitants 
of the forest from the cause of the French to that of the English. 

Christian Frederick Post, a Moravian missionary, was selected 
for this hazardous enterprise. He had long been laboring among 
the tribe of the Delawares, in Susquehanna, and had acquired a 
thorough knowledge of Indian language, habits, customs, and preju- 
dices. 

He was simple-hearted, calm, intrepid, and versed in the perils of 
savage life. Committing himself and his cause into the hands of the 
Great Master, attended by a small band of friendly savages, he 
started on his mission, and plunged into the forest. Omitting mi- 
nute history, suffice it to say, that the negotiation was eminently suc- 
cessful. His life was often threatened, and his escapes marvellous ; 
but he succeeded in attaching the Indians to the English, and in re- 
turning safely to the settlements. The fort soon fell, and the Eng- 
lish arms were crowned with triumph. 

After the close of the war in 1761, this Moravian missionary re- 
turned to labor among the Indians with whom he had negotiated ; 
crossing the Alleghany river, and settling upon the Muskingum, 
in what is now the State of Ohio. The Indians were of the Dela- 
ware tribe, with whose brethren he had before lived, and with whose 
language he was familiar. Having taken possession of some ground 
allotted him, he began to build a cabin for the double purpose of a 
home and school-house. But as he commenced clearing the land of 

* We are indebted to the interesting unpublished "Lowell Lectures" of Mr. 
Milburn, entitled, " Sketches of the Early History and Settlement of the Mis- 
sissippi Valley," for the warp of the following chapter ; but since in weaving the 
pattern, some threads of our own have been wrought in the woof, we can only 
give credit in this general way. 



102 THE PIONEER PREACHER. 

its native timber, the Indians inquired his purpose ; and on his an- 
swering that he must live, and to live he must have a cabin and a 
cleared spot to raise corn, they said : " Nay, not so ; the French 
priests, who have been our teachers, are *fat and comely, but they 
raise no corn. If you be the servant of God, He will feed you as He 
fed them. You need not to sow and reap. If you have land, the 
pale faces will come and take land beside you. They will build a 
fort ; they will cut down our forests, and seize our hunting-grounds, 
and we shall be driven towards the setting sun." 

The Indian logic was irresistible, and so Christian Frederick Post 
only built his cabin, and trusted God for his corn. The memorable 
Heckewelder was his worthy colaborer ; but the Pontiac war break- 
ing out the following year, the two missionaries, warned of danger 
by the faithful children of the forest, returned east of the moun- 
tains, remained six years, and then went back to the Indians, estab- 
lishing the noted settlement of Schonbrunn (beautiful spring), which, 
at the commencement of the Revolution, was the only Christian set- 
tlement west of the Alleghanies, except those of the Jesuits and 
other Catholic missionaries in Illinois and Louisiana. Thus planted 
and fostered by these pious, holy, and devout Moravian brethren, 
many an Indian heart was won to the cause of Christ by their la- 
bors, their patience, and their constancy. Flourishing missionary 
stations were established around this, as the centre, and peacefully 
and rapidly were the Delaware Indians being converted to Christi- 
anity and civilization. 

When the Revolutionary War broke out, unfortunately but in- 
evitably, these missionary stations were on the frontier between the 
Whites and the Indians. The Wyandots and Shawnees, the hostile 
tribes of the Northwest, in making incursions throughout the bor- 
ders of Virginia and Pennsylvania, must needs pass through these 
Christian settlements ; and the whites, in their avenging expeditions, 
must also take the Moravian Indians in the route. This only re- 
sulted in their good treatment by both parties ; but the British at 
Detroit determined, at last, that they must be broken up, and re- 
moved to the neighborhood of Sandusky. They were loath to 
leave their homes, their maize-fields, their school-cabins, and the 



THE MASSACRE. 103 

graves of their fathers ; but they were forced to go. Carried off be- 
fore th&r corn was harvested, unprovided with suitable shelter and 
sufficient food, during the severe and long winter of 1*781-82, nearly 
one hundred of them perished of cold and starvation ; and in the 
spring the remainder resolved to return, and at least gather in the 
maize which was yet standiDg in their fields. It happened that a 
company of ninety whites, under the command of Colonel William- 
son, had resolved on an excursion into the Indian territory, to pun- 
ish the Wyandots for their outrages ; and after two or three days 
march from Fort Pitt, now Pittsburg, they gained the peaceful set- 
tlements of these Moravian Indians. They found them scattered 
through the fields — men, women, and children — gathering in the 
corn. They were received courteously and even cordially, and in- 
vited to partake of food and rest. The whites told them that they 
had come on a peaceful errand to take them to Fort Pitt. 

It happened that some of the Indians had been there the previous 
year, and had been treated with remarkable kindness by the com- 
mandant of the fort. The plan therefore impressed them favorably ; 
and in accordance with the desire of the whites, they gathered to- 
gether from the fields, within a circuit of four or five miles, for 
friendly conference. When they were all collected in one place, 
unarmed and inoffensive, they were put under arrest and guard, and 
the question was proposed by Colonel Williamson to his men : Shall 
these Indians be marched to Pittsburg, or be put to death ? The 
soldiers were standing in rank, and the vote was put. " All in favor of 
life step out two paces in front," was the word. Sixteen out of ninety 
advanced. The motion was lost. The Indians were doomed to death. 
Their fate was announced to them, that with the morrow's dawn 
they must all die. Trusting, simple-minded people, they begged for 
life ; but their prayers were unheeded, except by Him whose ear is 
always open. The wailings of w^omen and children were lost on the 
vindictive soldiery. All night they spent either in pleadings with 
their captors, or in prayers to God. But when the sun rose they 
were led forth, and laid on blocks previously prepared. Five and 
thirty men, four and thirty women, and four and forty children, 
were in succession butchered. The blood runs cold at the memory 



104: THE PIONEER PREACHER. 

of that deed, the most atrocious ever perpetrated by the Anglo- 
Saxon. But God the Almighty slumbereth not: "Vengeance is 
mine, I will repay, saith the Lord." The next year this same band 
fitted out another expedition for exterminating the Indians, in com- 
pany with four hundred others. 

They went forth to burn, lay waste, and butcher ; but they were 
entrapped, defeated, scattered, and almost the entire company were 
either burned alive, tomahawked, or lost in the wilderness. 

These Moravian brethren were the first to bring the Word of Life 
into the boundless regions of the Mississippi Valley (excepting, of 
course, the old Jesuit fathers and Catholic missionaries who came 
with the French) ; and a few of their converts survived, and till this 
day a small remnant of Moravian Indians and Whites are to be found 
in the eastern part of Ohio. 

Turning now to the frontier country south of the Ohio, and we 
find that the earliest Christian pioneers coming into Kentucky on 
the first wave of population, were of the Baptist denomination, a 
large and influential body in Virginia and Xorth Carolina, whence 
the greater part of emigration to Kentucky originated ; and whilst 
there were but few regular preachers who came with the sole pur- 
pose of preaching, there were many who came to get farms and es- 
tablish estates, and who were also licensed to preach and to admin- 
ister the sacraments. 

These were not long after followed by Presbyterian missionaries, 
devoted exclusively to preaching the Gospel, and supported at the 
East. Both the Baptists and Presbyterians accomplished a noble 
work, but of these we do not design to speak. Indeed, there is less 
occasion, as faithful historians have already written their worthy 
story. We come at last to the Methodists, to whom our attention 
will be confined. 

The Methodist is a younger Church. Its first regular preachers 
landed in America in 1770. Only fourteen years after the first 
Methodist preacher had touched foot on this continent, they were 
penetratiug the wilds of the Far West, and visiting the outmost 
points of advancing civilization. James Haw first crossed the Alle- 
ghanies, and others rapidly followed. 



RELIGIOUS ANTAGONISM. 105 

At the outset there was much antagonism between the different 
denominations in the West. A sort of religious pugilism was in 
vogue, which, indeed, is not yet altogether passed away. There is 
a kind of courage and grit about western or pioneer people, which 
insists on scuffling and grappling — a pugnacious attitude, which 
manifests itself through all varieties of life. The pioneer clergy 
were not free from it. They were, hence, adept«controversialists, and 
a great din was kept up about Baptism and Pedo-Baptism, Free 
Grace and Destiny, Falling from Grace and Perseverance of the 
Saints, &c, <fec. Brethren of the different denominations often had 
their public discussions. One would challenge his brother of another 
faith, and meeting together before the people, occupying a tempo- 
rary rostrum in some grove, would debate the doctrines in which 
they disagreed. These discussions were conducted with due form 
and ceremony. A moderator was chosen, a committee of decision 
selected, the order of speaking determined, time specified, and all 
preliminaries having been satisfactorily settled, the combatants would 
discuss, defend, treat and maltreat the unfortunate doctrines, to the 
eminent edification of the interested audience ; and finally, like most 
disputants, sliding from general principles into sharp repartees and 
telling personalities, would oftentimes contribute to the infinite enter- 
tainment of the assemblage. 

Nevertheless, the people during twenty years were, for the most 
part, quite insensible to religious matters. Absorbed by Indian 
wars, by the settlement of a new country and the inexorable demands 
of a frontier livelihood, and French infidelity having come in with 
French politics, many sank, from apathy concerning Christianity, into 
cold deism or reckless atheism. Many of the principal citizens of the 
West were not ashamed to avow themselves skeptics and infidels, 
and therefore the field of the missionary was hard to till. 

In order that essential progress be made in rooting out error and 
clearing away the weeds of infidelity, it was necessary that the 
champions of the truth should merge all minor differences into the 
one common cause of the one great Head of the Church. There- 
fore, towards the close of the last century, the Presbyterians and the 
Methodists united their efforts and worked with mutual understanding 



106 THE PIONEER PREACHER. 

and harmony. In the southern part of Kentucky they held union 
meetings and sacramental services, at which ministers of both 
denominations officiated as true yokefellows, and the result was that 
an unusual interest in the subject of religion began to pervade the 
community ; and in the spring of 1800 occurred " the great revival,*' 
as it is termed, or " the Cumberland revival," the most extraordinary 
manifestation of religious excitement that ever happened on this 
continent, or perhaps ever happened in the history of the Church 
since the day of Pentecost. 

It burst forth with irresistible power at what was called a " sacra- 
mental meeting," or a " protracted meeting " of several days, held 
at Cane Ridge, Kentucky, sustained by the Methodist and Presby- 
terian ministers in union. This meeting had been preceded by 
many of the same kind, held in various parts of that region of 
country, the size and interest of which steadily increased with every 
repetition. At this one the collection of people was immense. It 
is credibly stated that thirty thousand were on the camp-ground at 
one time ; which seems the more remarkable when we consider the 
sparsely settled character of the country. 

Of course, provision for the sustenance and lodging of such a 
multitude for days in succession could not be provided by any one 
settlement of a new country, and hence the people came in families 
and companies, as of old the Jews went up to the Feast of Tabernacles, 
with horse-teams and ox-teams, carrying with them provisions, 
jerked meat and corn-dodger, cooking utensils, bedding, and tents. 
And hence we see that from the necessities of a new country arose 
the peculiar form of religious meetings, so popular with the Metho- 
dists, called " camp meetings." The inhabitants, scattered through 
the partially cleared forests or open prairies of the West without 
church buildings or established pastors; their minds untrained to 
thought, yet highly susceptible to sympathetic influences; their 
attention for the greater part of the year engrossed by the inexorable 
necessities of getting a livelihood, it is evident that their religious 
nature only could be reached through the combined influences of 
svmpathy, exclusive attention, popular oratory, and special excite- 
ment. And these camp meetings were not the device of ingenious 






107 

men to compass a desired end. They were the natural growth of fL 
new country, springing up spontaneously like prairie flowers from 
virgin soil. But at this meeting which we have introduced to the 
attention of the reader, this remarkable gathering of thirty thou- 
sand, a new development appeared, so wonderful and mysterious .as 
to be incredible, were it not vouched for by hundreds and thousands 
of worthy witnesses. 

Previous to this gathering at meetings in different parts of the 
country, there had appeared the most remarkable physical mani- 
festations, which went under the expressive name of " the jerks." 
The people were seized as by a sort of superhuman power ; all con- 
trol of the will over the muscular system seemed taken away ; in 
many cases the senses refused to perform their functions, and the 
usual methods of manifesting consciousness were annulled. Strong 
men would suddenly fall to the earth utterly helpless, or would be 
tossed and thrown about in all positions and attitudes. Women would 
be taken with a strong spasmodic motion, and while standing on 
their feet would be swayed back and forth, striking the back to 
the ground, and then, without the bending of joints, thrown over 
on to their faces, and so swing forward and back with strange regu- 
larity and rapidity. Indeed, it is stated by many eye-witnesses, 
in some cases so resistless and rapid was this motion, that the 
long hair of the women (which, in anticipation of the experience, 
they had let down and fastened in a knot at the end) would whiz 
through the air and strike the floor, so as to resemble in sound the 
crack of a teamster's whip, capable of being heard, it was presumed, 
in some notable instances, at the distance of a quarter of a mile. 
Men would be forced over the ground in a rotatory motion, their 
limbs forming the four spokes (so to speak) of an animated wheel ; 
and though sometimes able to stop themselves by clinging to trees 
or shrubs, yet in gome instances even unable to do this, and only 
secured by the help of friends. 

These remarkable manifestations excited, of course, the intense 
curiosity and interest of the whole country, and resulted in the 
thronging of the entire community to these " sacramental meetings," 
in order to be eye-witnesses, or possibly actual performers of these 



108 THE PIONEER PREACHER. 

mysterious "jerks." This accounts for the immense gathering of 
thirty thousand people at the Cane Ridge meeting, to which many 
had come fifty, one hundred, and even three hundred miles, or 
nearly a ten days' journey. 

The chief man, or presiding officer of this Cane Ridge convocation, 
was Barton W. Stone, a leading Presbyterian minister and preacher 
at the Concord and Cane Ridge meeting-house, who afterwards be- 
came renowned in the ecclesiastical annals of the West, as the father 
and head of the " New Lights," one part of which became absorbed 
in the sect now called " Christian," and the remainder became fol- 
lowers of Alexander Campbell, and are at present included among 
the " Campbellites." There were also collected ten or a dozen other 
preachers, of .different denominations, and from various parts of the 
country, most of whom were holding forth from the temporary 
stands for preaching, or elevated on huge stumps or fallen logs, each 
surrounded by his audience of eager listeners. Among the Metho- 
dist preachers present was "William Burke, a man of mark in his de- 
nomination. He was a person of stalwart frame and commanding 
presence, and possessed of a voice that rather thundered than spoke — 
a voice that in a still day could be heard for miles, unequalled for 
its tremendous volume. Burke was an orator, and a favorite with 
his sect ; and having come to this great meeting, he and his friends 
expected that he would be one of the principal speakers. He ar- 
rived on the ground on Friday night, but up to Saturday night had 
not been invited to preach by the presiding leader. His friends be- 
gan eagerly to ask if he were not to speak ; and he replied that he 
was ready to do so when invited. Sunday morning, Stone, in com- 
pany with one or two of his Presbyterian brethren, called upon him, 
and introducing the subject of his preaching, asked some question 
about his theological views, as if intending to test his orthodoxy as a 
prerequisite to an invitation. This fired brother Burke's blood ; and 
he, referring in proud tones to the wide-spread expression of his sen- 
timents as a prominent preacher, said almost with fierceness : " If 
you want to know my sentiments, come and hear me preach ;" and 
stalking away from the little knot of divines, sought a fallen log, 
which he mounted, and began to read a hymn. The news spread 






REMARKABLE EXCITEMENT. 109 

like wild-fire that Burke was holding forth ; and the people — men, 
women, and children — thronged to the spot. In a short time ten 
thousand persons were his audience ; and then rose his voice with a 
power beyond all previous efforts, swelling over the assembled mul- 
titudes with indescribable effect. But ere that sermon was com- 
pleted, the voice, powerful as it was, and of accumulated power as it 
progressed, was but a whisper amidst the uproar that encompassed 
it from the thronging multitudes, " like the sound of many waters." 
The supernatural agency was present beyond all precedent ; and it 
seemed to seize in its mysterious grasp the entire multitude. As 
they stood about the stand listening to the preacher, they would be 
swept down, five hundred at a time, like trees in a forest, pros- 
trated in the fearful pathway of a tornado, and lie senseless ; others 
would be tossed and whirled about in wild convulsions; others 
would perform gyratory motions ; and all this, intermingled with 
Hallelujahs, and shouts of "Amen," "Glory," "Glory," "Come, 
Lord," presented a scene of excitement beyond compare in the an- 
nals of religious enthusiasm. And it was not the religious people, 
the members of the Church, who alone were seized with these mo- 
tions. Those who came to scoff and ridicule were seized equally 
with the rest. Indeed, the severest convulsions, contortions, and in- 
sensible prostrations, were experienced only by the scoffers, the pro- 
faners, and blasphemers. A perfectly authenticated story is told of 
one man who, present at this meeting, and believing the whole thing 
to be either a delusion or a trick, determined to put a stop to it. 
There was one collection on the ground called " The Praying Cir- 
cle," made up of a ring of five hundred people, surrounding a large 
group of persons praying, shouting, crying, and tossed about by the 
convulsions, all in the most heterogeneous state conceivable. This 
man determined to break up this circle. So galloping down his 
powerful horse towards it across the field, and yelling like a demon, 
he bent his energies to riding through and scattering the throng. 
But as he neared the outer circle, he suddenly dropped senseless 
from his horse, and lay extended on the ground. There he con- 
tinued for thirty hours, apparently free from pain, his pulse ranging 
about forty, when he aroused and recovered. He said that he had 



110 THE PIONEER PREACHER. 

been conscious all this time of what was said and done about him, 
but that he was held by an irresistible power, which prevented mo- 
tion or expression. Such is a faithful description of "the jerks," 
gathered from eye-witnesses ; a manifestation whick has baffled ail 
physiological or psychological explanations, and which continued 
for several years, extending throughout most of the West, and con- 
stituting the marked feature of the " Great Revival." 

The result of this movement was the wide-spread overthrow of 
infidelity ; but as the Church nourished by its victories, the rank 
weeds of prosperity, rivalries, heart-burnings, and divisions arose. 
The Baptist, as well as the Methodist and Presbyterian denomina- 
tions, had largely participated in the movement ; and these sects, 
after the religious fever had subsided, became not only jealous of each 
other, as the fruits of the revival were being garnered, but became 
also divided among themselves. These rifts seemed the inevitable 
fruit, not of the faults, but of the virtues of the new converts. 
Reared in all the independence of a frontier life, with its contempt 
of formalities and its impatience of constraint ; living much in the 
society of nature with its inspiration to reflection, to freedom, to self- 
reliance, and to faith in impulses ; unaccustomed to think, except to 
some practical and immediate end, and hence trained to embody 
all theories resulting from speculation in the substantial form of 
action ; and uniting with these traits, the recklessness of conse- 
quences, and the unconquerable decision of pioneer men, it was a 
matter of necessity that the new converts should blossom out all 
varieties of religious notions, to mature into the unhappy fruits of 
divisions and fanaticisms. Quite a number became Shakers, a sect 
who ignore the ties of kindred, deny the liberty of wedlock to the 
children of God, and fulfil the worship of the sanctuary by monot- 
onous chants, ungraceful dances, and bodily revolutions and evolu- 
tions, which are a tame imitation of " the jerks." One man set him- 
self up for a leader or prophet, gathered about him a band whom 
he styled the twelve Apostles, set out westward in search of the 
Holy Land, and died of destitution on an island in the Mississippi. 
Another professed to hold converse with spirits, not in the vulgar 
style of modern table-rappings, but directly and immediately. 



the pkeachek's bboomfhnse. Ill 

Another worked out his reflections to the conclusion that he could 
live without food, that faith would save him from starvation, ac- 
cording to the command of Christ, "Take no thought for the 
morrow, what ye shall eat or what ye shall drink. Consider the 
fowls of the air, they toil not, neither do they spin, and yet your 
heavenly Father feedeth them ;" and faithful to his theory, he held on 
to the last and died of hunger, which brought his sect also to an 
untimely end. But it were needless to continue description, or even 
to enumerate the new parties, such as the Hard Shell Baptists and 
the Soft Shells, the New Lights, the Cumberland Presbyterians, 
<fcc, <tc. 

Rather, in conclusion, let us adopt the testimony of those many 
witnesses who, now old, wise and godly men, and having for fifty- 
five years watched with religious fidelity the results of the great 
revival, assure us that its good fruits are incalculable, in compari- 
son with which its evil sinks into insignificance. 

The ministers of the Methodist Church assume the position, re- 
sponsibility, and duties of the calling under the impulse and belief 
that they, each and every one, are specially called, designated, and 
sent forth by the Holy Spirit of truth and power to be ambassadors 
of Jesus Christ. The conference might decide, by consideration of 
gifts and graces, according to their best belief and conviction, 
whether it be a real or a spurious " call,'' and if their opinion coin- 
cided with the conviction of the individual, he was set apart for the 
sacred office of the ministry. At the time to which we refer, the 
office was no sinecure. His field of labor was the world ; his par- 
ticular station determined by the Church, in conference represented ; 
his annual salary, sixty-four dollars, according to the Book of Disci- 
pline. And this was to include the presents which he might re- 
ceive. If any grateful sister should knit for him a pair of woollen 
socks, an expression of the warmth of her regard, it must be re- 
ported to the conference, a price set upon it, and the sum deducted 
from the sixty-four dollars. And so, whatever was received, from 
whatever source, was to be deducted from the prescribed salary ; 
and if, as sometimes happened, the yearly presents from marriage 
fees or otherwise amounted to more than sixty-four dollars, the sur- 



112 THE PIONEER PREACHER. 

plus was handed over to the Church, to be paid to some less fortu- 
nate brother. They must also provide themselves with a horse, rid- 
ing saddle, wearing apoarel, and necessary books, with no outfit 
allowance from the Church ; and west of the mountains many were 
the preachers who never realized, either in legal coin or in presents, 
even the stipulated sixty-four dollars. Nothing more was allowed a 
man with a wife than without one, for it was understood in the 
primitive Methodist Church that a preacher had no business with a 
wife, and was much better without than with one. John Wesley 
had such an unfortunate experience in wifedom, that he discouraged 
marrying : Francis Asbury, the master genius of Methodism in this 
country, was so devoted to his work that he discountenanced matri- 
mony as a hindrance. He once said that he never married, because 
he never could find a woman who had grace enough in her heart to 
be willing to be separated from her husband, the year round, with 
the exception of one week ; and if he could find one so good, he 
would not marry her, for he had not grace enough to be happy away 
from her. Nevertheless, he insisted that it was the business of every 
man to support one woman. He therefore gave the larger part of 
his income to the maintenance of a distant cousin in England, and 
after her death to some other female. But he never approached 
nearer than this to the countenancing of matrimony. When one of 
the young brethren was so rash or unfortunate as to become en- 
tangled in the bonds of wedlock, there was a tacit understanding 
that he had better " locate," in the language of the Church, that is, 
retire from itinerant labor, settle down to some self-supporting occu- 
pation, preach in one place, and no more draw on the funds of the 
conference. 

As we see, small were the worldly inducements to enter the 
ministry. Besides the meager support and the single life, they 
were to encounter a wilderness; to face perils; to endure want, 
weariness, unkindness, cold, and hunger ; to hear the crack of the 
Indian rifle from the adjoining thicket, feel the ball whizzing past 
the ear, or perhaps fall by the unerring shot : but if their lives were 
spared by the guardian care of a kind Providence, and by God's 
special interpositions, the bare earth, in winter and summer, was to 



THE PREACHER'S LIFE. 113 

be their bed ; three-fourths of their time, the saddle their pillow, the 
sky their tent-cloth ; and oftentimes when making a preaching-cir- 
cuit, at their own charge and cost, on applying for food or shelter, 
they were to be rudely repulsed by a member of another denomina- 
tion, or some bitter infidel ; and thus to go forward, year after year, 
with no provision for advancing years, but faith in the Master who 
had called them ; no sunshine of affluence to light the pathway of 
declining life, and no comforts but the approval of conscience, and 
the indwelling testimony of God's Spirit. It is manifest that one 
who could be a respectable blacksmith, carpenter, mason, or farmer, 
would not enter the ministry, unless pressed by the irresistible 
"call;" and that those who did consecrate themselves would be 
men of nerve and men of power ; for they were not men " of educa- 
tion," in the popular sense. Their book knowledge was scanty, but 
they Avere thorough students of the Bible, and they were mighty in 
the Hymn-book. The Bible was not only studied on horseback, 
but read daily on bended knee, in the shelter of a thicket or in the 
midst of the wide prairie. The preacher on rousing from his night's 
slumbers in the open air, as the first rays of morning suffused the 
east with just enough light to see the sacred page, was accustomed 
always, even in winter, to read and pray before saddling his horse 
or breaking bread. Kneeling there on the snow, he committed 
himself to God's care, and sought the inspiration of the Holy Spirit ; 
and he could scarcely renew his journey until he had carefully read 
three or four chapters of the Holy Scriptures. They studied the 
Hymn-book, also, almost as devoutly and constantly as the Bible ; 
and with these two the Methodist preacher felt that he had an arse- 
nal from which he could draw ammunition for any emergency ; and 
perhaps he was. not far from right. There was, however, a sort of 
supplement to these two books, a third volume, which they carefully 
and constantly perused — the ever-open volume of Human Nature. 
They could read character " like a book." They were shrewd, dis- 
cerning, keen-eyed men, who detected the controlling motive and saw 
the assailable points of the human heart ; and could be, like Paul, 
" made all things to all men, that they might by all means save 
some." 

8 



114 THE PIONEER PKEACHEK. 

It will readily be inferred from this analysis what was their 
style of preaching. They were earnest preachers. They felt that 
great issues were at stake. Whether there was a congregation of 
three or three thousand before them, the same pressure of respon- 
sibility rested upon their hearts ; for they saw before them immortal 
men and women, whose eternal destiny was to be decided within 
this brief life, with whom they might never meet again. And they 
felt that the " blood of souls " would be found on their skirts if they 
failed to declare the whole counsel of God. And they were men of 
quick sensibilities and intense emotion, and of lively fancy and 
imagination. Before the eye of faith was distinctly pictured the 
haven of rest, repose, and joy, which was to succeed the life of weari- 
ness and hardship they were leading ; and, on the other hand, the 
dark, unfathomable abyss of perdition was a revealed reality. 
Their favorite reading, besides the Bible and Hymn-book, were 
works of lofty imagination. Milton and Young were intimate com- 
panions of these old wayfarers. Their Miltonic descriptions of per- 
dition abounded, and their delineations of the judgment-day, with 
all the solemn array of the last Assize, were terribly graphic in 
their minuteness. It might seem to us, in our cold and calculating 
criticism, as if their descriptions of the good and the bad savored 
too much of a topographical character, like the minute descriptions 
by travellers of sights and animals in foreign countries. But not so 
did they seem to their hearers. Many of these were ignorant, cap- 
tious, hard, cavilling people, fierce in their contempt of every thing 
like lack of downright earnestness, or rose-water sentimentalism. 
Agreeable metaphysical disquisitions, profoundly elaborated exegeses 
of scripture passages, or any address to the intellect instead of to 
the heart through the imagination, would have done little towards 
influencing these backwoodsmen to a better life. The division 
made by a certain prelate, after reading his text, into — first, its topo- 
graphy, secondly its chronology, and thirdly its psychology, would 
have been a poor start to make before those people. They must have 
plain, practical truth ; and these firm-faithed, single-hearted Method- 
ists were the ones to give it to them, and they did it with a right 
good-will. 



FRANCIS ASBURY. 115 

It was a strong, fierce, demonstrative style of preaching. Men of 
inexhaustible stamina and voice, they spoke with loud tones and 
with the whole body. Neither did they shun humor in the pulpit. 
Those who had the gift, and many of them had it, used it by no 
means sparingly, and with unmistakable effect. But polished and 
erudite discourse they discarded. With no library but what they 
carried in their pocket, they had little opportunity to prepare it, 
and less inclination. But to illustrate, to interest, to admonish, to 
reform, to win, to entreat by the love of Christ, " Be ye reconciled 
to God," — this was the burden of their preaching. 

We now turn to a more particular consideration of some of the 
actors in these scenes among the Methodist clergy. 

Of all Methodist preachers, Bishop Asbury stands at the head, if 
indeed he does not rank first in importance, of all American preach- 
ers. With full appreciation of the claims of Jonathan Edwards, 
Dr. Dwight, Dr. Channing, and all the other eminent clergy of 
New England, we are free to say that Francis Asbury, the first 
Methodist Superintendent and Bishop on this continent, has made 
probably the broadest and deepest mark in our ecclesiastical history. 
For forty years he travelled on horseback from Maine to Virginia, 
and from Boston Bay to the Mississippi. He had the care of all 
the churches. He was constant in season and out of season, not 
only as a preacher, but indefatigably stimulating and inspiring 
young men to the work of the ministry, reclaiming the backsliding, 
bringing incongruous elements into working accord, and consoli- 
dating %Church which, when he began in 1*7 71, numbered less than 
fifty members, and when he died in 1816 numbered one million, 
scattered from Maine to Louisiana, and from Florida to the extreme 
northwest, — all united in an effective and prosperous organization, 
a Church built almost absolutely by the skill of this one man ; by 
his profound wisdom, his untiring effort, his ceaseless devotion ; by 
the constant exercise of his spirit, brain, heart, and body. And yet 
the name of this man, who did so much for the erection of churches ; 
for the establishment of schools and colleges ; for the diffusion of 
sound views of morals, religion, and education, and the presentation 
by example and precept of the loftiest views of life — the father of 



116 THE PIONEER PREACHER. 

this great body of Christians, which includes at present one-fifth 
part of the population of the United States in its congregations ; 
which has one-third more stated preachers, and more colleges under 
its care, than any other two denominations in the country, — the 
name of this man, Francis Asbury, does not appear in any school- 
book or American history, to our knowledge. Thus is it that 
monuments to the greatest of the great are not of granite nor in 
type, but in the hearts of men. 

Asbury was surrounded and assisted, as all leaders are, by men 
much akin to him, inspired with his spirit and devoted to his plans. 
One of his associates, whom he trained up from youth, was James 
Haxley, a famous old fellow of East Tennessee. Another was James 
Craven, a renowned man in his day. These old preachers were 
very severe against whiskey and slavery. Brother Craven was once 
preaching in the heart of Virginia, and spoke as follows : " Here 
are a great many professors of religion to-day. You are sleek, fat, 
good-looking, yet something is the matter with you. Now, you 
have seen wheat, which was plump, round, and good-looking to the 
eye, but when you weighed it you found it only came to forty-five 
or perhaps forty-eight pounds to the bushel, when it should be 
sixty or sixty-three pounds. Take a kernel of that wheat between 
your thumb and finger, hold it up, squeeze it, and — pop goes the 
weevil. Now you good-looking professors of religion, you are plump 
and round, but you only weigh some forty-five or forty-six pounds 
to the bushel. What is the matter ? Ah ! when you are taken 
between the thumb of the law and the finger of the gospel, held up 
to the light and squeezed, out pops the curly-head and the whiskey- 
bottle." 

Old Father Haxley on one occasion preached as follows : " Ah 
yes, you sisters here at church look as sweet and smiling as if you 
were angels, and one of you says to me, ' Come and take dinner 
with me, brother Haxley,' and I go ; and when I go, you say, ' Sit 
down, brother Haxley, a while, while I see about the dinner ;' and 
you go to the kitchen, and then I hear somebody cry out, ' Don't, 
missus! don't, missus!' and I hear the sound of blows, and the 
poor girl screaming, and the lovely sister a whalin' and trouncm.' 



FATHER HAXLEY. 117 

Sallie in the kitchen ; and when she has got through, she comes 
back, looking as sweet and smiling as a summer day, as if she had 
just come from saying her prayers. That's what you call Christi- 
anity, is it ?" 

Brother Haxley was sent in 1806-7 into Attakepas region, 
Louisiana, as a missionary. He was about five feet eight inches in 
height, strong and sinewy, accustomed to all forms of exposure and 
suffering. Travelling among a rude, border population, many of 
whom were French Catholics, he had not much to expect in the 
way of comfort. At one time, out of money, and reduced nearly to 
starvation, having slept for several nights in a swamp, he came 
upon a plantation house. The people knew him to be a preacher by 
his coat, and they wanted no such persons in the house. The old 
gentleman entered, and asked if he could have a supper and night's 
lodging. The only persons present were a widow lady, some chil- 
dren, and black people. " No," said the woman, " you cannot ; we 
don't want any such cattle here." Here was a fair prospect of 
sleeping another night in the cold. Besides, the poor man had had 
nothing to eat, and he might die of starvation. He thought of the 
sad and lonely way, and of the perils which encompassed it. Then 
his faith lifted his thoughts to the better, brighter world ; he thought 
of heaven, and its rest and reward for the wayfarer ; he thought of 
the good Father, and of those angels which were sent to succor and 
minister ; and his heart began to fill and overflow with gladness ; 
and in the enthusiasm of gratitude and love and faith, his voice, of 
its own accord, as it were, burst forth into singing — 

" Peace, troubled soul, thou need'st not fear, 
Thy great Provider still is near : 
Who fed thee last will feed thee still : 
Be calm, and sink into His will." 

But he would not stop with one verse ; he sang the next, and so 
through all the verses of the hymn, and then through another 
hymn, and still another. He was a fine singer, and his voice had 
then peculiar sweetness and richness ; and as he looked around, at 
the conclusion of the third hymn, he saw that the woman, the 



118 THE PIONEER PREACHER. 

children, and the black people were crowded around him, and the 
tears were flowing, and the old lady shouted, " Pete, put up the 
gentleman's horse; girls, have a good supper for the preacher I" 
and thus the good man was lodged and fed for a song. Haxley came 
to Baltimore to attend a general conference in 1820. A discussion 
arose on a question of order, whether presiding elders should be 
elected by preachers or not, and the dispute had waxed warm, not 
to say hot. Brother Haxley had said not a word through it all, but 
at the close of the session, the bishop called upon him to make the 
concluding prayer. He knelt and said, " Now, Lord, thou know- 
est what a time we've had here, discussing and arguing about this 
elder question, and thou knowest what our feelings are. *We do 
not care what becomes of the ark, it's only who drives the oxen." 
Thus did these men strike to the heart of things. They preached 
among a people who were sharp shooters, who would drive a nail 
into a tree with a rifle ball at the distance of fifty yards, and they 
did with the tongue what their hearers did with the rifle — they hit 
the nail on the head. 

Peter Cartwright was another of those preachers, now living an 
old man in Illinois. One incident we will give of him. In common 
with most of the early preachers, he was a strong opponent to 
slavery, and the question being canvassed in Illinois about 1822-3, 
whether slavery should be engrafted on the constitution, the brave 
man resolved to remove to Illinois and take part in the quarrel. He 
had been preaching in Kentucky and Tennessee for a quarter of a 
century, but he received an appointment as Presiding Elder in 
Illinois, and had a district from Galena in the northwest, to Shawnee- 
town in the south, a country nearly as large as England. This he 
was to traverse once every three months, and never failed in his 
appointments, and at a time when there were no roads, and scarcely 
any bridges or ferries. 

It was his practice to preach Saturday morning at eleven o'clock, 
hold quarterly conference in the afternoon, preach in the evening ; 
hold love-feast Sunday morning at eight o'clock, administer bap- 
tism at eleven, then preach from one to three hours, administer the 
Lord's Supper ; preach again in the evening (at all convenient inte- 



THE FERRYMAN BAPTIZED. 119 

rims selling books, with which his saddlebags were crammed) ; and 
then at the close announce that on the next day he would address his 
fellow-citizens from the stump on the admission of slavery into the 
State. It resulted, of course, that the pro-slavery men became very 
angry at the preacher, and had much to say about " ministers not 
dabbling in politics," " sticking to their calling," &c, &c. It hap- 
pened that on one occasion he rode to a ferry across the Illinois 
river, where the country was more thickly populated, and met a 
little knot of people who were discussing politics. The ferryman, a 
stout fellow, was holding forth in excited terms about some old 
renegade, prefixing a good many expletives to his name, which we 
omit — one Peter Cartwright, swearing that if he ever came that 
way he would drown him in the river. Cartwright, unrecognized 
by any one, said, " Stranger, I want you to put me across." " You'll 
wait till I'm ready," said the ferryman. So when he had finished 
his speech, he added, " Now I will put you over." Cartwright rode 
his horse into the boat, and the ferryman began to pole it across. 
Cartwright felt it his duty to make himself known, and assert his 
principles ; but he wanted to be sure of fair play. So when they 
reached the middle of the stream, he threw the horse's bridle over 
a stake of the boat, and told the ferryman to lay down his pole. 
" What for ?" said the ferryman. " Well, you have just now been 
using my name ' improper ;' you said if I ever came this way you'd 
drown me in the river. Now you've got a chance to do it." " Is 
your name Pete Cartwright ?" said the ferryman. " My name is 
Peter Cartwright," said the preacher. Down drops the pole, and 
at it go preacher and ferryman. They grapple for a minute, but 
Cartwright is remarkably agile, as well as athletic, and in a trice 
he has the ferryman, with one hand by the nape of his neck, and 
with the other by the seat of his trowsers, and whirling him over 
the side of the boat, plunges him under the tide; his astonished 
companions looking on from the shore, fair play being secured by 
the distance. Twice and thrice the preacher souses the poor ferry- 
man under, saying as he does, " I baptize thee (k'splash) in the 
name of the devil (k'splash), whose child thou art (k'splash) ;" then 
lifting him up dripping with water, and gasping for breath, Cart- 



120 THE PIONEER PREACHER. 

wright asks him : " Did you ever pray ?" " Pray !" said the ferry- 
man, " no." " Then it's time you did," said the preacher. " Say, 
Our Father which art in heaven." " D — d if I do," said the ferry- 
man. K'splash — goes the poor man under the tide again. " Will 
you now ?" said the preacher. " No — I — won't," said the strangled 
ferryman. K'splash — under the water again. " Will you pray nowV 
said the preacher. " I'll do any thing," gasped the ferryman. " Say, 
Our Father which art in heaven." " Our Father which art in heav- 
en," said the ferryman, and followed him through the Lord's prayer. 
" Now let me up," said the ferryman. " Not yet," said the preacher. 
" You must make me three promises — first, that you will repeat that 
prayer every morning and night, as long as you live ; secondly, that 
you will hear every Methodist preacher who comes within five miles 
of this ferry; and, thirdly, that you will put every Methodist preacher 
over this ferry, free of expense. Do you promise ?" " I promise," 
said the ferryman, and resumed his pole. Cartwright went on his 
way, and that ferryman not long after became a convert, and in time 
quite a shining light in the Church. 

Wilson Pitner was another pioneer of later date. He was subject 
to despondency and self-depreciation, and to corresponding exalta- 
tion of feeling. He once began a sermon as follows : " As I was 
riding through the woods, I saw a grapevine whose stalk was as big 
as my arm, and on looking up, I saw that it reached, I should think, 
forty feet, to the great branch of a tall oak, and held on there ; on 
the ground around were other grapevines, small and flat, with ten- 
drils loose and seeking. Yes, said I, I see what makes the difference. 
That big grapevine, large as my arm, and forty feet high, was once 
on the ground as poor and small as any ; but it took hold of the tree. 
So it is with me, my dear hearers, I am very apt to be on the 
ground, dispirited and disconsolate ; but when I take hold of God, 
when I cling to Him, and wind my tendrils around His great 
branches, ah ! then I mount up, strong and lofty." And after the 
sermon, as he started forth across the prairie on horseback, his com- 
panion asked him how he felt in one of these exalted moods. To 
fully appreciate his reply, one must have experienced the irresistible 
exhilaration of being on a wild horse in the midst of one of those 



THE TWO-STORY WAREHOUSE. 121 

boundless prairies. " I feel," said he, " as if my soul was running a 
horse-race in the grand prairie of Divinity." Thus did they illus 
trate in a bold, familiar way. Pitner once came in his circuit to 
the bank of the Mississippi, where he had an appointment to preach, 
and joined a cluster of men discussing the best locality and pattern 
of a new warehouse. He thereupon took for his text, " But godli- 
ness is profitable unto all things, having promise of the life that now 
is, and of that which is to come." And he began : " My friends, I 
hear you talking about a new warehouse on the river, and discussing 
where it shall be put, and what size it shall be, and whether it shall 
have one or two stories. I can tell you of a warehouse, and it's a 
two-story warehouse — it has one story in this life, and another story 
in the life to come ; and when the water rises so that the first story 
isn't safe, you can tote your plunder up into the second story." And 
so he proceeds to develop the truth of the text. 

We might multiply anecdotes to any extent, but our limits forbid. 
In the words of Mr. Milburn, " The pioneer preacher is a man of 
stamina and a man of humor ; an urgent sort of man, whose soul is 
permeated with the truth of what he said — without doubt, evasion, or 
equivocation — speaking right out what he has to say, and doing right 
on what he has to do. True, they have their faults. They are in- 
ferior in the niceties and elegancies and refinements and beauties of 
civilized society ; but with all their downright directness, they are men 
of great hearts and tender susceptibilities. It is much in vogue to dis- 
parage ministers of the gospel, to treat them decently, perhaps, as a 
sort of debilitated class between women and children, with conde- 
scending patronage. But these pioneer preachers need no patron- 
age, nor pity; they can take care of themselves, and they do it. 
And if any one at the East fails to find his ideal of ministerial 
character — sublime, courage, indomitable energy, daring self-forget- 
fulness, a Christian piety which is self-abnegation — then let him go, 
even in this present day, west of the Mississippi, and he will find 
there some noble pioneers, hastening with the bread of life to the 
starving inhabitants, scattering manna in the wilderness ' unto 
eternal life.' " 

Those who rise early and toil late, to hoard up gold with which 



122 THE PIONEER PREACHER. 

to build a house, and live in it and die, with no breath from grate- 
ful hearts to waft them up to heaven ; those who struggle and ma- 
noeuvre and electioneer, sacrificing principle and peace to win 
earthly power, which they use for their own exaltation — but never to 
lift up the people they have used ; those who loll in lazy luxury, con- 
suming the harvests their soft hands have neither sown nor reaped ; 
well may they, unsatisfied, restless, craving, ennuyed, envy the hard- 
ship, the poverty, the toil, the lowliness, aud the health, the peace, 
the exhilaration, the joyful memories, the heavenly hopes of the self- 
sacrificing, man-loving, God-fearing Methodist Preacher. 

The next sketch will contain a description of the daily life of the 
Pioneer Preacher. 








f^A^ 



WILLIAM HENRY MILBUM, 

THE BLIND PREACHER. 



" For Thou wilt light my candle : the Lord my God will enlighten my 
darkness. ' ' 



W. H. Milburn was born in Philadelphia, on the twenty-sixth of 
September, 1823. His father was a merchant, but, meeting with re- 
verses, removed to the West in 1838, and is now living with his wife 
and one son at Jacksonville, Illinois. They were originally from 
Maryland, and belong to the Methodist Church. William was an 
active, robust boy, possessed of perfect faculties, both bodily and 
mental ; but at the age of five met with the accident which resulted 
in blindness. He was playing with another lad in an open lot, en- 
gaged in throwing at a mark, when his companion, in lifting his 
hand to cast a piece of iron hoop, or something of the kind, inad- 
vertently struck the edge of it into Milburn's eye. 

From this accident, however, the eye recovered without injury to 
vision, except that the scar consisted of a slight protuberance, which 
interfered with sight downward, but not direct or upward. This 
protuberance the physician decided to burn off with caustic ; an op- 
eration which, twice repeated, was hard for the boy to bear. He 
begged for relief, and at last resisted, declaring that he could not 
endure it. Upon this the physician seized him in his arms, forced the 
caustic upon the wound, and in the struggles both eyes of the poor 
boy were dashed with it. As a remedy, they were kept bathed with 
a solution of sugar of lead for two years, during which time the pu- 
pils became permeated with depositions of lead, and light was shut 



124 WILLIAM HEXRT MILBURN. 

out, with the exception of the left upper corner of the right eye, 
through which narrow aperture objects were visible. 

By placing a projecting shade over the eye, the hand convexly 
shaped beneath it, and leaning the body forward at an angle of forty- 
five degrees, Milburn was able to read ; seeing, however, only one 
letter at a time. Cut off from most sports, he became absorbed in 
reading ; and day after day would sit in the constrained posture 
necessary to see, poring over books, often twelve hours out of the 
twenty-four. His constitution was so good that it did not suffer 
under this confinement and unnatural attitude, until he was nine- 
teen years of age, when a Senior in college ; then his health sud- 
denly gave way, and it was discovered that he had a slight curva- 
ture of the spine, and some internal organic disease. From the 
former he has not altogether recovered, and is in consequence 
obliged to lie in a horizontal position during a portion of every day ; 
but, though of rather slender and delicate appearance, he is capable 
of enduring great fatigue, and long-continued, severe mental applica- 
tion. 

His sight has been gradually diminishing, so that now he is una- 
ble to read at all ; but in a favorable light and position, can dimly 
discern the outline of objects. The result is, that his other senses are 
cultivated to exquisite nicety. He recognizes acquaintances from the 
voice, more readily than many do from the appearance; and he 
judges of character from intonation, as others do from expression. 
His idea of locality is admirable, so that he moves about in familiar 
places with facility, and often travels unattended, trusting to the 
kindness of strangers, or rather certain of meeting some one of his 
many friends. His memory is prodigious, receiving like wax and 
retaining like iron, and in early life was probably not surpassed by 
that of Magliabecchi, or any of the mnemonic prodigies. 

On hearing his father read a chapter of the Bible at morning 
prayers, he would repeat it after him without mistake, and two rep- 
etitions insured its permanent retention. A college mate has told 
us of his going to Milburn's room one day with a volume of Chal- 
mers 7 Astronomical Discourses, and reading him a half or two-thirds 
of one. Milburn expressed delight, and wished it read again. He 



HIS MEMORY. 125 

did so, when Milburn said, " Thank you, I have it now." " What do 
you mean — have what ?" " Why, I have that sermon ;" and to dis- 
pel skepticism, repeated it verbatim, and the next Saturday declaimed 
a part of it in the chapel. After entering college, however, he dis- 
couraged the cultivation of memory, and bent his mental energies in 
other directions, fearing to be no more than the receptacle of other 
men's thoughts — a mere walking encyclopedia. 

The result is, that his memory is now less tenacious. His habit, 
at present, is, when wishing to commit a new chapter, preparatory 
to public worship, to have it read to him on the previous day, and 
he repeats after the reader, verse by verse, and then in sets of four 
verses, commencing each time at the commencement of the chapter. 
With one reading of the chapter thereafter, he is prepared to go 
through it before an audience, without possibility of failure. Poetry 
he commits with greater facility than prose. He is perfectly familial 
with the Hymn-book, and can probably repeat most of the New Tes- 
tament, and considerable portions of the Old. His retention oi 
names, dates, facts, and conversations, seems to be equally good ; the 
only difference of power being between the committing of prose and 
of poetry. It is an interesting fact, that his four children inherit 
much of this power of memory : the oldest, a daughter of eight 
years, having a special gift in that way ; and the next, a bright little 
fellow, having caught a good part of Milton's Allegro, from hearing 
his sister repeat it, before he could understand a word of it. Since 
we have floated along to this point of the narrative, we will add, 
that Mr. Milburn's wife, a Baltimore lady of thorough education and 
practical sense, to whom he was married in 1846, is his principal 
reader ; at some periods reading to him ten hours a day for weeks, 
four and five hours at a sitting, and sometimes fifteen hours out of 
the twenty-four. 

In May, 1838, the Milburn family removed from Philadelphia to 
Jacksonville, Illinois ; and being in reduced circumstances, William, 
in company with his father, sought for some suitable means of live- 
lihood at St. Louis, Quincy, and other places. The son was offered 
a clerkship on a steamboat, but his mother would not consent to a 
situation so hazardous to good habits ; and the result was, that the 



126 WILLIAM HENRY MILBUEN. * 

father opened a small store in Jacksonville, with William for a clerk. 
His parents, while interested in his education, feared that reading 
would result in total blindness, and wished him to relinquish books 
for business, and hence the clerkship. William's regular duties con- 
sisted in being up at four o'clock, lighting the kitchen fire, drawing 
water, and cutting wood, opening the store, sweeping it out, and re- 
turning to breakfast by candlelight in winter, or at sunrise in sum- 
mer. The day was spent at the store, and faithful attention to cus- 
tomers was necessary, besides the keeping of the books, which 
he managed to do, with some assistance, in spite of his limited 
vision. 

But meanwhile the studies could not be relinquished, for a liberal 
education was the lad's ambition. At his place, by the door, in 
summer, and at a window in winter, sitting in a constrained posture, 
he received the sunlight of knowledge, as it were, through a crevice 
in the roof, instead of by the effulgence poured in through surrounding 
windows ; besides the disability of sight, suffering from the incessant 
interruption consequent upon strict attention to the store, and the 
constant ear-vigilance necessary to distinguish customer from idler. 
But the preparation for college was accomplished without assistance, 
except in the use of Latin and Greek dictionaries ; and the Fresh- 
man class was entered in 1839, at Illinois College, situated in Jack- 
sonville, then under the presidency of Dr. Edward Beecher. The 
regular course was pursued until the latter part of the Senior year 
(with the exception of Greek, which was discontinued on account of 
eyesight, at the close of the Sophomore year), and the clerkship at 
the store faithfully maintained. Much interest was manifested by the 
excellent people of Jacksonville in his progress, for he was a favorite ; 
and all went on prosperously till the spring of 1843, his last colle- 
giate year, when health suddenly gave way, as we have mentioned ; 
and separation from books and a regimen of horseback riding were 
prescribed as essential. 

From childhood Milburn had been the subject of religious impres- 
sions. The teachings of parents, and the conversations of visiting 
clergy, were received into a susceptible heart. The emotions, how- 
ever, excited by religious truth were evanescent, like all emotions of 



127 

childhood. The tide of boy-feeling ebbs and flows with a rapidity 
only equalled by its strength. There is the sorrow, the dash of 
tears, the forgetfulness, the glee, and the sky of the boy's heart as 
clear and blue as ever. But at fourteen, impressions became abiding, 
and he united with the Methodist Church. 

At a very early age he had an unwavering presentiment that he 
should be a preacher ; but with college life and its success, especially 
in declamation, debate, and composition, new ambitions were engen- 
dered, and a wider field became the object of aspiration. His father's 
home had always been the resort of the travelling Methodist preachers. 
He had listened to their stories, their escapes, their religious expe- 
rience and exhortations, with absorbed interest: they were the 
Knight Templars of his life-romance ; and through early years all 
encouragement to be himself a Methodist preacher met with a 
responsive throb. 

Now laid aside from study, and driven to the saddle to win back 
the ebbing forces of life, he lent ear once more to the suggestions of 
the old preachers, who looked upon this experience as a providential 
guidance into the path of the ministry. The presiding elder urged 
the course of duty. His father furnished him with a horse, saddle, 
and saddlebags ; his mother fitted him with a grayish-blue jeane suit 
(a homespun woollen fabric, the coarser quality of which goes under 
the name of linsey-woolsey) ; and thus accoutred, with overcoat 
strapped on the saddle, he starts forth, in company with the presid- 
ing elder, as an itinerant preacher, to make the first acquaintance 
with his circuit. He had never rode before to any amount, but at 
the end of two and a half days an appointment one hundred miles 
distant was punctually attained. His theological course had also 
commenced, with the good elder as the professional corps; the 
Bible, his text-book ; the saddle, his recitation-seat ; God's wide, beau- 
tiful earth, the seminary. The appointment was a quarterly-meeting, 
held in a double log-cabin — that is, a cabin with two rooms, on the 
floors of which the preachers slept at night. The meeting began at 
one o'clock Saturday afternoon with a sermon by the elder. In the 
evening the local preacher officiated, at the close of which service, 
the elder, without warning, spoke out in an imperious voice — 



128 WILLIAM HENRY MILBURN. 

" Brother Milburn, exhort ;" and thus, standing up behind a splint- 
bottomed chair, "Brother Milburn" made his first address to a 
religious assembly, and his profession was entered at the age of 
nineteen. Thus during the summer, he traversed a region of one 
thousand miles in extent, preaching on every Saturday and Sunday, 
and three or four times during the week, always in company with 
his theological instructor, his text-book, and his seminary course. In 
September 26th, 1843, on his twentieth birthday, he was admitted 
as a " travelling preacher" to the Illinois Conference, and his field of 
labor specified. 

At this point let us observe the daily life of a Methodist pioneer 
preacher, with more minuteness than in the previous chapter. His 
circuit, we will suppose, is one of two hundred miles, with thirty 
"appointments," each one to be visited once in four weeks. He 
obeys the rules of the Book of Discipline, the most noteworthy of 
which are these : 

1. Never fail to meet an appointment. 

2. Never disappoint a congregation. 

3. Never be unemployed ; never be triflingly employed. 

4. Believe evil of no one without evidence. 

5. Speak evil of no one. 

6. Be ashamed of nothing but sin. 

7. Do every thing at the time. 

8. Rise at four o'clock. 

9. And converse sparingly with women. 

Rising at four o'clock in the morning, after a season of devotion, 
he seeks his horse, which he cleans and feeds. The Methodist 
preacher always takes care of his own horse, and hence they become 
greatly attached to each other ; and the preacher is usually some- 
what of a jockey, and takes a worthy pride in his animal. Milburn's 
horse was young, and very superior, and his companion during the 
four years of western life. He has ridden him ninety miles in one 
day. After this duty, he returns to the house, washes, and sits down 
to study till breakfast, which usually consists of bacon, " corn- 
dodger," or hot corn-bread, " seed-tick coffee," a cheap kind of Rio 
coffee of small kernel, strong and bitter, which gets its name, doubt- 



129 

less, by an attempt to illustrate a thing of taste by a thing of feeling. 
After breakfast he saddles his horse and starts on his journey, hav- 
ing an appointment to preach, we will suppose, twenty miles distant, 
at half-past ten. If it is winter, he has on a fur cap, overcoat, and 
buffalo overshoes. If warm, and not raining, the overcoat is strapped 
behind the saddle, and a straw hat has superseded the cap. The 
suit of coarse blue jeane is cut in the simple Quaker style. The 
saddlebags are filled with religious books, which he sells, realizing 
from the profits a little daily income. Every appointment must be 
kept, even when the preacher is sure that no audience will meet 
him. Even drenchiug rain must not interfere with progress : and 
the preacher carries no umbrella ; but the motion of riding insures 
against taking cold, if the clothes can be dried at the stopping-place. 
On his way he overtakes some half-dozen women in calico gowns 
and aprons, with knitting-work, proceeding, with friendly gossip, to 
the meeting. These will constitute his audience, as it is a work- 
day of spring, and the men are busy in the field. The log-cabin 
where the meeting is, has but one room, which is parlor, kitchen, 
bedroom, and lumber-room. After some friendly chat with the 
women, he withdraws to one part of the room for a brief interval of 
meditation, and then commences the services with a hymn. This is 
followed by prayer, another hymn, a sermon, and concluding exer- 
eises, and the meeting is adjourned till evening. Thereupon the 
good housewife proceeds to get dinner, and pulls from under the 
bed a nice molasses pudding, prepared in anticipation of the 
preacher's welcome visit. The men come in from the fields, and 
pleasant talk and narrative ensue, the humorous and religious com- 
bined. 

The preacher spends the afternoon in study and w r riting, and in 
the evening preaches again to a larger audience of men and women, 
and attends to personal religious conversation, or any matter of 
church business. On Sunday the audience is large, collected from 
a circuit of from five to thirty miles, the seraion from one to two 
hours in length, and the services more elaborate, sometimes con- 
tinuing without an intermission from eight a. m. till five p. m., the 
sermons of some being five hours long. The settlers do not care to 

9 



130 WILLIAM HENRY MILBURN. 

come thirty miles for a mere sprinkle of preaching. These sermons 
consist much in exposition of Scripture, in liberal quotation and 
grouping of texts, and in familiar illustration, closing with fervent 
and extended exhortation. Formal and highly wrought discourse 
would be absurd to a group of half a dozen women, and as many 
men in their shirt-sleeves, who have just laid aside pipes and familiar 
conversation together, to hear a preacher who takes his stand behind 
a wooden chair on one side of the kitchen. Yet the preaching is 
not by any means thin. It has body, and that of great power. The 
sermon has been built up day after day, by reflection on horseback, 
study in cabins, and practice through its growth, three or four 
times a week. All the varied experiences with nature, with people, 
in conversation, by anecdote, on the road, in the cabin, through the 
field, are made to contribute to its life; and thus, when finished, 
it is like its robust originator, hearty and elastic, full of vitality 
and blood and electricity, instead of being pale and abstract, 
like the dyspeptic dinger to rocking-chairs and book-encircled 
rooms. 

The following are some of the rules for professional duty which 
will illustrate the preacher's life. 

1. To spend from four to five in the morning, and from five to 
six in the evening, in prayer, meditation, and reading of the 
Scriptures. 

2. To preach, if possible, at five in the morning. 

3. To visit the sick. 

4. To see that the other preachers behave well. 

5. To meet the Stewards and Leaders. 

6. To appoint all the Leaders. 

*l. To receive, try, and expel members. 

8. To hold Watch-nights and Love-feasts. 

9. To hold quarterly meetings in absence of Presiding Elder. 

10. To take care that every society is supplied with books. 

11. To publicly catechise the children. 

12. To form Bible-classes. 

13. To enforce the rules of the society. 

14. To keep accounts of attendance on worship, number of Sab- 



131 

bath-school children, &c, &c, and report regularly to the Con- 
ference. 

15. To obtain the names of the children, pay special attention to 
them, and speak to them personally and kindly. 

And the Book of Discipline adds, " The sum is, go into every 
house in course, and teach every one therein, young and old, to be 
Christians inwardly and outwardly. Make every particular plain 
to their understandings ; write it in their hearts. What patience, 
what love, what knowledge is requisite for this !" 

Truly said ! But the self-denials of the life seemed to insure the 
graces. They were men of large, beating hearts, and self-sacrificing 
spirit. They felt that they had received a " call " from heaven to 
preach. They were as certain of their commission as was Paul, on 
his way to Damascus, when the light from heaven, above the bright- 
ness of the sun, shone round about him. Like Paul they answered, 
" Lord, what wilt thou have me to do ?" With the gratitude of 
redemption, with the warmth of a first love, with the assurance of a 
divine commission, they present themselves to the Conference, and 
the Conference sends them forth. They find their way among the 
log-cabins. They gather people more unlettered than themselves. 
They preach in kitchens and from stumps. They sometimes utter 
words of the deepest wisdom. They know little of books, but they 
can think, and reason, and feel, and influence, and accomplish ; so 
that they become guides, captains, pioneers in life. Some seem to 
have intuitive knowledge — the common-sense persons ; some have 
studied human nature ; some have been trained in the school of 
active life ; some have been developed by silent thought ; and 
thus, knowing little of Lexicons or Encyclopedias, they are better 
educated than some pale student who has paid his five dollars for a 
parchment. There is no doubt every one of them would be of a 
higher order of manhood, and better preachers, if more skilled in 
books ; but with little learning they become great teachers — with 
scanty seed they reap mighty harvests. They could live on sixty- 
four dollars a year, preach seven times each week, exhort daily from 
house to house, complete the circle of three hundred miles with 
every moon ; swim ferryless rivers, sleep on the ground, eat corn- 



132 



v.-llliav zz>~ v :::l:7::~ 



bread and bacon ; and at the end of tlie yes 
strong and hearty tc the Conference, and re 

another campaign. They mo - ::: :_e fissl a 

rails >vei It then read upon t 

gathered after many lavs. ~" T heno: their 

their good feeds : we forgive then ceriiencies. 

In September of 1845, Hr. Mdburn same E 

Conference, tc present the :-atise ::' e i u cat: :_. i 

the establishment of Meth ; Hs* ; :"_: ols and colli 

" d his journey L r found hi— ; ri: en boai 

steamer, on which were three hundred passengers 

ya the passengers '_; 1 been ::^T:her, Mr. 1 

well informed of then character, and he fop 

among the gentiezien. —Tie s rzih: ::' men": 

their way to "Washington. These gentle 

tentiei. >n account :: then exceptional 

::' Sabbath morning, it was rumored thi 

:i was m board, and Mr. Milburn was 

•rive a discourse." He promptly c 

commenced Divine service. The membe 

have allnded we: - am >ng the : ngregatk 

■ jeseaaon :: Que ih:::- nearest to 1 

gave an add :othe oceas:::. : 

:^zi w3i iistenei :: thr:-i'h:u: ™i:h in:e 

elusion he stopped short, and turning 1 

fervent zeal i "''. Is the " henersbie gen: 

&e passengers in this sterner, are a nn 

from then j ration, they h:tddb< 

and dignified conduct ; but from what I 

lot so. He Union of these States, i 

would be unsafe, and aii the high 

. '. he iashei :: the 

for days past, have made the air fa 

- int v ;-.-: :n= :: the bar. 



re 






emsetvec 

7 ::eienhais for 
tvilizatirn w; 



-•- 



:: 



e.ev;: 



E :. 



n had attracted his at- 

haiits. •' a the ::::-:.. 
h :he ";::.: :"_:.: : _ _ i e_i s - 

itei 'it :.a:. tah-ea ::: :i 



A: 



SENATE CHAPLAINCY. 133 

perance ; nay, more, the night, which should be devoted to rest, has 
been dedicated to the horrid vices of gambling, profanity, and drunk- 
enness. And," continued Mr. Milburn, with the solemnity of a man 
who spoke as if by inspiration, " there is but one chance of salvation 
for these great sinners in high places, and that is, to humbly repent 
of their sins, call on the Saviour for forgiveness, and reform their 
lives." 

As might be supposed, language so bold from a delicate stripling, 
scarcely twenty-two years of age, had a startling effect : the audience 
separated, and the preacher returned to his state-room, to think upon 
what he had said. Conscious, after due reflection, that he had only 
done his duty, he determined at all hazards to maintain his position, 
even at the expense of being rudely assailed, if not lynched. While 
thus cogitating, a rap was heard at his state-room door : a gentleman 
entered and stated that he came with a message from the members 
of Congress — that they had listened to his remarks, and in considera- 
tion of his boldness and eloquence, they desired him to accept a 
purse of money, which they had made up among themselves ; and 
also, their best wishes for his success and happiness through life. 

But this chivalrous feeling, so characteristic of Western men when 
they meet bold thought and action combined, carried these gentle- 
men to more positive acts of kindness : becoming acquainted with 
Mr. Milburn, when they separated from him they offered the unex- 
pected service of making him Chaplain to Congress, a promise which 
they not only fulfilled, but through the long years that have passed 
away since that event, have cherished for the " blind preacher" the 
warmest personal regard, and stand ever ready to support him by 
word and deed. 

His election to the office of Chaplain to Congress, so honorably 
conferred, brought him before the nation, and his name became fa- 
miliar in every part of the Union. His health still being delicate, 
in the year 1847 he went South for the advantage of a mild climate, 
and took charge of a church in Alabama. For six years he labored 
industriously in Montgomery and Mobile, and in four years of that 
time, preached one thousand five hundred times, and travelled over 
sixty thousand miles. 



134 WILLIAM HENRY MILBUEN. 

During the two years at Montgomery he came into the sad ex- 
perience which seems inevitable to active minds — the season of 
questionings and doubts, when the cold fog closes down upon life's 
river, and the mariner creeps anxiously along, with constant sound- 
ings and tolling bell. The time has come to settle the great ques- 
tions and solve the problems of life and religion. There is no longer 
escape from them. And as he will not preach further than he has 
lived, it is not strange that his ministrations lacked the pungency 
and daring which are popular in the Methodist Church. So when 
the time came to leave his people, he told them of his state. " I 
have been to you," said he, " but as ' the voice of one crying in the 
wilderness.' I know you have gathered little good from my preach- 
ing. My spiritual eye has been like my natural. But I trust that 
he who ' comes after me' will be to you a messenger of peace, so 
full of Christ's spirit as to be the coming of Christ to you." But at 
last his eyes were opened, and he rejoiced in the light. Then he 
preached with heart and wide-embracing charity ; and thus, using 
only expressions which blossomed out of his own thrifty soul, and 
shedding all the dead leaves of the past, he came into another sad 
experience, which also is not uncommon — to be suspected by those 
who cannot distinguish between truth and established formulas — to 
be tried for heresy, and to be abundantly acquitted. This was during 
the first two years at Mobile. The next two years were spent in 
preaching in a free church as a city missionary, an enterprise initi- 
ated by John A. Campbell, now judge of the Supreme Court at 
Washington, and supported by persons of every denomination. The 
audience was made up of all classes, from the poorest and most igno- 
rant to the richest and best educated. They were very happy years, 
of abundant promise for a fruitful future ; but health gave way again, 
and the prostration of strength made removal to the North essential. 
In December he was re-elected chaplain to the Senate, which post he 
held till March of 1855. During the summer he prepared a course 
of lectures, entitled, " Sketches of the Early History and Settlement of 
the Mississippi Valley," which were first delivered before the Lowell 
Institute, at Boston, in December. He has since been wholly en- 
grossed by lecturing, and his success is unsurpassed. He has spoken 



EDUCATION IN THE METHODIST CHUKCH. 135 

from Augusta, Maine, to New Orleans, and from Chicago to Savan- 
nah. From October first to May first he has spoken on an average 
seven times a week, at least five-sevenths of which were lectures. 
Derby & Jackson, of New York, are publishing four lectures in one 
volume, including — " Songs in the Night, or the Triumphs of Genius 
over Blindness," " An Hour's Talk about Woman," " The Southern 
Man," " The Rifle, Axe, and Saddlebags, or Symbols of Early Western 
Character and Civilization." 

In the course of a year or two all his lectures will be published ; 
and we hope also an autobiographical life, which, including expe- 
riences in the West, South, at Washington, and as a lecturer, among 
all classes and conditions of men, with the anecdotes which such a 
memory will accumulate, would make a volume of great interest. 

Mr. Milburn is planning to go to Europe, we understand, this 
summer; and we hope the English will find out how much of 
interest to them is contained in his lectures. He has become a resi- 
dent of New York city, and we trust in time will find a field of labor 
opening for him there, similar to the one which was so sorrowingly 
left at Mobile. 

Of his delivery we have briefly to say, that it is simple and natural. 
His voice is clear, inclining to gentle inflections and tender under- 
tone, though sometimes rising into great vigor and ring of utterance. 
He speaks with easy and even affluent Extempore, though he uses 
his memory but little in preparation for public discourse. But his 
preaching is not of the style most popular in his Church, for it is not 
demonstrative nor assured ; but quiet, and touching upon heart-ex- 
periences with the gentleness of one who has felt them. 

As a fitting conclusion, we will give a succinct view of the educa- 
tional movements and progress of the Methodist Church, with allu- 
sion to a few of its leading men. 



EDUCATION IN THE METHODIST CHURCH. 

Of those who have taken the lead in education, Wilbur Fisk, D. D., 
deserves special mention. A native of Vermont, a graduate of Brown 



136 WILLIAM HEXKY MULBUKS. 

University, he began his efforts by establishing "Wilbraham Academv, 
Massachusetts, in 1S25 or '26 ; and then Wesleyan University, in 

Connecticut, in 1830, of which he was President until his death, in 
1840. Augusta College, Kentucky, was established about the same 
time ; and thus the work has gone on, until now every State in the 
Union, out of New England, has at least one Methodist college or 
university, except California, which will soon have one. Besides 
the colleges, they have many high-schools, which have an attendance 
of from three hundred to six hundred pupils. For example, in Illinois 
there is the Xorthwestem University, sixteen miles from Chicago ; 
the Bloomington College ; the McKendree College at Lebanon ; the 
Female College at Jacksonville ; the High-school at Mount Morris, 
and other schools of more recent origin. All the colleges and 
schools are under the care and control of the Conference, and the 
property owned by the Church, 

George Peck is another who has done much to arouse the denomi- 
nation to clerical education. He is now in his fifty-ninth year ; has 
been preaching forty years ; editing the " Methodist Quarterly" eight 
years, and the " Advocate and Journal" for four years ; and writing 
many essays, and some volumes which have been esteemed worthy 
to be used as theological text-books. He was born in Middlefield, 
Otsego county, New York, August 6th, 1797. ' His first preaching 
circuit was in Broome county, when he was eighteen, and he went 
by the name of the i: boy-preacher." He has always had a taste for 
theological controversy, and he became, at the outset, involved in 
many a smart skirmish, which, while it quickened his powers, pressed 
upon him the importance of thorough mental training and outfit 
Thirty years have passed since he began to agitate, through press 
and pulpit, the subject of clerical education. They have been years 
of rich growth to the denomination. Suggestions of improvement 
have become living realities. The day has gone by when people 
look strangely at the mention of a Methodist college, and ki Metho- 
dist minister" may be used as a synonym for ignorance and boorish- 
ness. 

And though the change is so recent that the Puritan descendants 
in some quiet village are still puzzled at discovering that the Moth- 



EDUCATION IN THE METHODIST CHTJECH. 137 

odist preacher, who has come to spend two years with them, is a man 
of literary culture, polished eloquence, and refined taste, yet the 
change is accomplished. A system of ministerial education is estab- 
lished ; text-books are prepared ; timely aid is given to the indigent ; 
libraries are collected ; colleges abound ; newspapers flourish ; the 
Methodist Quarterly Review is distinguished for the ability and ele- 
gance of its articles ; and the Methodist Book-Concern floods the 
country with tracts and books. 

The denomination, now only seventy-one years old (the Methodist 
Church of America having been organized on Christmas day, 1*784), 
has 22,209 ministers, 81 missionaries, 10 quarterly and monthly pe- 
riodicals, 24 religious newspapers, with a weekly circulation of 
127,900; 24 colleges, with 99 professors, 1779 students, 61,270 
volumes in their libraries; 133 female seminaries and colleges, 
11,678 pupils; amount of Church property, $17,411,440 ; amount 
given the last year for support of ministers, Sabbath-schools, &c. (ex- 
clusive of what was given for building churches), nearly $8,000,000, 
which is more than five dollars a member, not counting slaves; 
population which may be said to be under the spiritual care of the 
Methodist Church, nearly six millions, or full one-fifth of the popula- 
tion of the United States. 

It is worthy of note, that throughout the new States and all the 
Territories, the system of Methodism is so complete, that preaching 
is accessible to every hamlet at least once a month, and to most 
once a week. To others who have been distinguished in this pio- 
neer work, we should be glad to pay a deserved tribute, did our 
limits allow — such as William McKendree, John Collins, James 
Quinn, Russell Bigelow, John Strange, Henry B. Bascom, Samuel 
Parker, Jesse Walker, Jonathan Stamper, and others ; to Valentine 
Cook, Martin Ruter, Charles Eliot, Joseph Tomlinson, &c, who 
were the earliest movers for education among the Methodists of the 
West ; and we may also worthily mention the names of John Scripps, 
James Finley, and William Wyman, who, together with Peter 
Cartwright, already referred to, are now living. 



138 WILLIAM HENRY MILBURN. 



LIBERTY OF THE PULPIT. 

In this connection we are led to suggest whether the Church has 
not to revise its views about theological seminaries. Are there not 
many who find that a theological course has a more or less benumb- 
ing influence on religious character ? And is there not a necessity 
for this result in the nature of things ? Is not the separation from 
the work of real life, and from the sympathies of actual experience, 
unfortunate for the development of a natural and vigorous piety ? 
And is not the tendency of a critical and philological dissection of 
Christ's simple words of love and faith, and of Paul's glowing im- 
agery, when continued month after month, to " exalt the letter which 
killeth," and chill " the spirit which giveth life ?" 

Are there not advantages in the old method of theological study, 
pursued under the roof of some godly divine, and combining a pas- 
tor's experience with a theologian's instruction, for which libraries 
and lectures do not compensate ? Is there not suggestive truth in 
the success of the Methodist pioneer preacher, although the true bal- 
ance between the education of books and of practical life was lost, 
by the excessive preponderance on one side ? And is not the " sem- 
inary air" of some initiative preaching, unnatural and ineffective as 
it is, suggestive of the possibility that the true balance may be lost, 
by preponderance on the other side ? 

Why may not the seminaries, most valuable institutions as they 
are, hold the same relation to the preacher, which the regular law- 
school holds to the lawyer — a place of admirable instruction, by all 
means to be attended if possible, but not a prerequisite to admission 
into the profession ? And why would it not be well for a young 
minister, whether with or without a seminary course, to have practi- 
cal training, as temporary associate, with some experienced pastor, as 
the young lawyer always connects himself with the office of some 
good attorney and counsellor, before " setting up for himself ?" 

We are also led to suggest, whether the world has not reached 
that time when the pulpit should be open to lay-preaching. For 
centuries it has seemed to the Church necessary to guard the pulpit- 



LIBERTY OF THE PULPIT. 139 

door with sleepless sentries, lest dangerous heresy or unedifying ig- 
norance gain entrance. But the people are not as ignorant or dan- 
gerous as once. Neither does the clergy now monopolize piety, 
learning, and literature. The printing-press has been invented. 
The daily newspaper is an established institution. The private li- 
brary is a household necessity. The religious Weekly preaches to its 
audience of one hundred thousand. Is there not a change of rela- 
tions between clergy and laity which demands a revision of condi- 
tions ? Once, the pulpit guarded was the church guarded ; but now 
winged imps of error fly in at a score of windows, and, alighting on 
a hundred pews, chatter deridingly at the old sentries on the pulpit 
stairs. Do not old 'restrictions, and defences, and precautions, now 
keep out more good than evil ? 

The editor of a religious paper preaches weekly to an audience 
one hundred times as large as his pastor's. Why should he not 
be licensed as well as his pastor ? The author of a religious book 
preaches to an audience one thousand times as large. Why should 
he not also be licensed before preaching ? " The liberty of the press 
forbids." True; but there was a time when editors and authors 
could not preach without a license. In Italy they cannot now. Is 
it not time to inaugurate " The Liberty of the Pulpit ?" 

Let us cite illustrations. Here is a western settlement of scattered 
farm-cabins. A log school-house is built and occupied, but no 
church can be erected as yet, nor pastor supported. But in one of 
the farm-cabins lives a man from New England, of intelligence, 
good sense, and piety, who moved on to "Government Land," 
for the sake of his many sons. Why not make him the preacher 
on Sunday till the settlement, grown to a town, can support a 
pastor ? 

Here is an old New England village. The pastor is disabled by 
sickness. His brethren come from long distances to " supply the 
pulpit ;" or " deacon's meetings," distasteful to many, give opportu- 
nity for loud reading from printed volumes. Of the audience is 
the Academy Preceptor, a man of accomplishments, of unusual 
oratorical excellence, both extempore and written, and of genial 
piety. Why not make him the preacher on Sunday ? We shall 



14:0 WILLIAM HENRY MILBURN. 

find that not two divines of the county can surpass his pulpit 
eloquence. 

Here is a thriving city. A revival occurs in a large church. The 
pastor is worn with excessive labor. The people, hungry for bread, 
demand preaching every night. Connected with the church is a 
lawyer whose eloquence holds crowded court-rooms, for successive 
hours, in rapt attention. He is also a good man and true, and a 
fervent Christian. Why not make him the preacher for Monday 
and Wednesday evenings ? 

We all say that a Free Press is the Palladium of free institutions. 
Is it not time to inquire whether a Free Pulpit is not the prerequisite 
to an universal Christianity ? 




,a *ea.TjjrJ :.Biittre 




HENRY WARD BEECHER 



THE PEOPLE'S PREACHER. 



For all the people were very attentive to hear him." 



Among the many consecrated edifices which distinguish Brooklyn 
as " the City of Churches," is included one, individualized by its 
unusual capacity and its modest architecture. It is substantially 
built, evidences skill in the convenience of its arrangements, is fur- 
nished with sufficient comfort, and, so far as the essentials of a 
church building are concerned, is a model. Once a year its pews 
are re-let on a principle of universal equality. If one be too poor to 
hire a seat, a simple request will insure it to him for the year. 

Ten respected men of the society officiate on the Sabbath in seat- 
ing strangers. It is a church pervaded by the hospitality of a home, 
and where " the poor " as well as the rich " have the gospel preached 
to them," as in Christ's time. It is the outward expression of the 
essential Democracy of Christianity. Its seats are virtually free, 
and its Pulpit is a Platform. 

Here gather, twice on every Sabbath of the year, except during the 
summer solstice, about twenty-five hundred people, and the audience 
sometimes numbers three thousand. It is not unusual for the capa- 
cious body of the church, the broad galleries, the second elevated 
gallery, the several aisles, and all vacancies about pulpit and doors, 
to be occupied by eager listeners, and sometimes hundreds turn 
away, unable to find footing within the audience-room. And this 
is no novel fact. It has been a fact for six years. Its persistence 
imparts to it the dignity of a moral phenomenon. It is unprece- 
dented in the history of audiences, whether religious, literary, politi- 



142 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

cal, or artistical. What in truth is it ? It is not that an orator 
attracts a crowd. That is often done. But it is, that twice on each 
Sabbath of six years, from two to three thousand people centre to an 
unchanged attraction. 

No dramatic genius, no melodious voice, no popular eloquence 
has ever done so much as that, Neither Macready, nor Garrick, 
nor Jenny Lind, nor Rachel, nor Gough, nor Clay, nor Choate has 
done it The, theatre must change its " Star" monthly, the singer must 
migrate often, the orator must make " angel-visits " to concentrate 
three thousand people. And the phenomenon is the more remarka- 
ble, in that this gathering is around the Pulpit, where no Art wins, 
and no Pleasure stimulates ; and, furthermore, it occurs when hun- 
dreds of other audience-rooms are opened for the same purpose, 
with pulpits suitably supplied ; while competition must be banished, 
before the Stars of Art can fill three thousand seats for a single 
evening. And though a difference of expense has its effect, yet it is 
far from explaining the difference of fact. 

What is it that makes " Plymouth Church, Brooklyn," an excep- 
tion to all churches, and to all audience-rooms ? Is it because its 
pastor, Henry Ward Beecher, is the most eloquent man, or the most 
learned man, or the most godly man among the clergy ? Neither 
is true of him. When these audiences began, "novelty" was 
assigned by some as the attraction, and " wit " by others ; but six 
years has ruined the one, and seekers for the other find attendance 
a too serious business. This question may well be pondered by all 
churches and in all pulpits, for it certainly is of moment to know 
the secret of Mr. Beecher's attraction, when the serious problem of 
the day is this matter of public worship. Take for example this 
church-going city of Brooklyn, and we find that all its churches 
will seat only 46,446, while its population is 205,250. The church 
capacity of New York is 135,406, and its population 629,810. In 
New England, the best Sabbath-keeping community of America, 
not more than one half attend church, and the relative attendance 
on public worship is said to be on the decrease. This vast repulsion 
between People and Pulpit is generally charged to wicked Human 
Nature. This may be correct, but it does not alter or amend the 



VIEWS OF MAN. 



143 



fact ; and many are asking whether the reason does not lie in the 
Pulpit, or at least a remedy in some change of preaching. The fact 
that Nettleton and Whitefield and Duff and Beecher seem to neu- 
tralize this repulsion, though not gifted with greater intellects, it is 
said, than many other preachers, lends additional interest to the 
problem. 

Deferring, therefore, biography, as of less account, we will endeavor 
to present the characteristics of Mr. Beecher's preaching ; beginning 
with his religious and philosophical views, which, whether right or 
WTong, have much to do with his attraction. Yet we give our ideas 
not with authority, not the result of^ersonal intercourse, which 
would have had its advantages, but of some hearing of his sermons. 

This presentation can more readily be made, if the reader will keep 
the fact in mind, that Mr. Beecher holds to the " orthodox" faith (a 
term well understood), and allow us to note some of the differences, 
either in theology, or in the relative value attached to certain 
truths, or in the mode of presenting them, between him and most 
orthodox divines. 



He looks at him as he is revealed in our every-day experience, 
without regard to theory, and he sees him, as we all see him, hav- 
ing a twofold nature, the animal and the spiritual, mutually depen- 
dent and mysteriously united ; and while gifted with wonderful 
capacities for the highest good, and for the purest and noblest 
spiritual life, he sees him enslaved by strong, and apparently inevita- 
ble, downward tendencies ; the lower propensities asserting sway over 
the higher aspirations ; Sense lording it over Spirit, when it should 
be servant ; the Animal absorbing the Spiritual, and this resulting 
in sinful indulgences, in blindness to the eternal life, in forgetful- 
ness of God, and in the death of trespasses and sins ; or, to speak 
less abstractly, resulting in selfish, hardened, unloving, sensual men 
and women. Now, nearly everybody believes in the doctrine of 
"total depravity," practically; at any rate, those who have ever 



144: HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

practised law or taught school, or even tried themselves to be good : 
that is to say, we believe that people have an inevitable bias towards 
selfishness and forgetfulness of God, and that it is hard to make 
them different ; and we doubt whether any one believes the doctrine, 
in the sense that the depravity of children is "total," meaning 
thereby that every child is as depraved as possible. If any do, they 
have a different view of human nature from Mr. Beecher's, who 
thinks that some children are more depraved than others. But he dif- 
fers from many preachers in not presenting this doctrine in precisely 
defined statements, but in taking it for granted.. And when taking 
it for granted, he refers to if^ not as a fact of discouragement and de- 
spair, but as something from which we can and may secure escape, for 
which ample means are provided; — God's Spirit, ever at work; Christ, 
the way and the life; Providence, warning and guiding; Nature, 
overflowing with instruction; and the Bible, shedding its illus- 
trating light through and over all. He preaches hope, restoration, 
salvation. He is like the good physician, who begins the cure by 
the encouragement administered before the medicine, instead of 
plunging the poor wretch down from all chance of recovery, by 
enlarging on the desperate nature of his disease. " Yes, you are 
sick, but you can get well : we will talk about that, not about the 
disease." We never heard him use a common prayer-phrase, " Show 
unto us, God, the exceeding sinfulness of our hearts ;" but we 
once heard him say in a sermon that he never offered that petition, 
because there would be such an awful revelation that he could not en- 
dure the sight. And yet we rarely hear any minister who sincerely 
and unprofessionally expresses, with fuller consciousness, or pro- 
founder humility, personal sinfulness and unspeakable need of a 
Divine Redeemer. 

He once incidentally stated his theological position, on this doc- 
trine, by saying, " I would not for all the world make my nest in 
the doctrine of total depravity. It would be like lying on a bed of 
thorns ;" manifestly meaning thereby, not that he disbelieved the 
doctrine (as some have charged), but that he would not dwell upon 
it, live in it, brood over it ; making it the prominent, ever-present, 
and central truth : that the chief place should be occupied, both in 



VIEWS OF SLAVERY. 145 

one's thoughts and in one's system of theology, not by man's de- 
pravity, but by God's infinite, all-forgiving, and inexpressible love. 
And though it is not difficult, on the one hand, to define his position 
with reference to this fundamental doctrine, yet, on the other, one 
can realize his conviction of the degradation of Humanity compared 
with its capacities, only by hearing in his prayers, humble acknowl- 
edgments of indwelling sin, touching aspirations for deliverance, 
earnest supplications for the Divine assistance, and heart-utterances of 
the Divine love, — vitally outbursting in every variety of expression 
and illustration, and all intensified by his lofty ideal of man, if only 
disenthralled, purified, and redeemed. 

A second distinctive feature of Mr. Beecher's convictions in re- 
gard to Man, is, that instead of depreciating or ignoring his value, 
he exalts it. lie sees nothing in the universe, except God and 
Angels, of so much worth as Man. lie is the centre around which 
and for which other existences revolve. All creatures are his minis- 
ters, the beasts of the field and the fowls of the air are for his 
sustenance, the growth of the soil for his support, the atmosphere 
for his life, and the sun and moon and stars for his enlightenment ; 
nay, more than this, institutions and governments are servants to 
his good, and only of value as ministering to his well-being. Now, 
one can see how this conviction will shape many opinions, and give 
the answer to a variety of questions. In Dietetics, for example : is it 
right to slay for food ? Doubtless, if it is for man's good. In re- 
gard to Institutions : " the Sabbath was made for man, and not man 
for the Sabbath," would be the indicating text to all his positions. 
In Politics : shall an obnoxious law be sustained ? No, if it is to 
man's injury. Is a human law more sacred than the God-imaged 
man to whom creation is subservient? Christ, the Son of God, 
valued his life as worth less than Humanity, and shall any govern- 
ment rate itself higher ? Away with the law, away with the insti- 
tutions which degrade or prostrate Humanity. 

Here one reaches the root of Mr. Beecher's anti-slavery sentiments. 
He regards the African as a part of Humanity, though some do not. 
He looks upon him as deteriorated and demoralized by an institu- 
tion ; the institution made superior to the man, and hence his whole 

10 



146 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

nature revolts at the enormity — his soul inevitably cries out against 
the wrong. Shall man be debased, his manhood crushed out, his 
intellect blinded, his Bible torn away, for whom Christ died ? God 
forbid ! Away with the monstrous wrong ! 

Now, no arguments in favor of slavery drawn from the institutions 
of two thousand years ago, or from the alleged physical comforts 
of the slave, or from the value of the Union, or from the sacredness 
of law, can touch such a position as this. They all appeal to lower 
motives, and start and end on an essentially lower plane. A scale 
which makes compromises or unions or cotton of more weight than 
Humanity, is abhorrent to him ; and the only way to convince him 
that emancipation should not be immediate, reckless of property or 
governments, is by convincing him that Humanity would lose. 

Finally, in regard to Theology. It is not difficult to see how this 
appreciation of man would affect, not his creed, but the comparative 
prominence given to certain views in his preaching. Humanity, 
life, real experience, facts, would be worth to him far more than ab- 
stract formulas, scientific propositions, or elaborated systems. Doc- 
trines would have value only as they can be translated into experi- 
ence. Truth must be vital to be valuable. Hence he never takes 
one of the " doctrines," as theologians do, and devotes a sermon to 
showing its relative place in a system. " Away with such husks of 
truth," he says ; " they are dry as last year's pods, and empty as 
last year's bird-nests. As the forms and ceremonies of the Jews 
were of value at one stage of progress, but when Christ came were 
to be sloughed off — so now do systems of theology stand related to 
the Church. They are like the wrapping leaves round a bud, 
essential in its early state to protect and preserve ; but when the 
time of efflorescence comes, then the flower bursts out of them. 
Their work is done ; and if they hold on longer, so glued together 
that the swelling bud in vain presses against them, they prove, not 
its protection, but its death." And he goes on to say, that what 
we want is truth which is vital. "We must know how to act, how 
to control passions, how to resist temptations, how to be self-sacri- 
ficing and loving, how to walk with God, how to live. It is well 
in its way, and important, to know what to believe ; but the great 



VIEWS OF THE DEITY. 147 

thing is to know how to live. In a morning prayer-meeting he 
once said : " I should be glad to hear some brother speak. If any 
one has any heart-experience, which he is moved to tell, I would be 
glad to hear him. But we don't wish any stale advice, by one 
person, how his neighbor ought to feel ; nor any bloodless commen- 
tatings on disputed texts of Scripture. What we want is life — 
pulsating, glowing, Christian life. If any one has a living thought, 
or an aspiration, or some blessed experience of divine grace, we 
would like to hear him. If a person would bring in to me a fresh, 
blue violet, this beautiful Spring morning, I would thank him ; and 
so if any one has a little flower of Christian experience, which has 
blossomed forth from the wintry snows, through the warmth and 
light of God's love, I would thank him for it — I would give more for 
it than for four acres of dried hayV 



MR. BEECHER'S VIEWS OF THE DEITY. 

Of course^ his view of attributes is not different from that of all 
believers in the Bible ; yet here, as in other matters, the difference 
in relative prominence given, works a manifest difference in preach- 
ing. Mr. Beecher exalts the love of God — not sentimentally, far 
from it — but livingly, eloquently, rapturously ; with heart, with glow, 
with inspiration. This he regards as the central essence of the Di- 
vine nature, to which other attributes are tributary. He esteems less 
the cultivation of veneration, which puts God at a distance ; less the 
cultivation of conscientiousness, which exalts his justice ; but more 
those states of mind which realize God's long-suffering, his tender- 
ness, his compassion, his forgiveness, his nearness ; in a word, his 
unfathomable love, to which, as he once said in prayer, " the ocean 
is but as a drop, and the encircling atmosphere but as a puff of 
wind." 

His address in prayer is to a Father, to " a Friend that sticketh 
closer than a brother." His ascriptions are those of gratitude for 
the numberless expressions of God's love, forbearance, and mercy, 
and not so much those of solemn reverence or retreating awe. He 



14S HENRY WARD BBECHEB. 

" comes boldly unto the throne of grace f he u draws nigh unto 
God." The filial feeling is pre-eminent in his heart ; and the pater- 
nal relation of God to his creatures, the all-perrading one of the 
Gospel rather than the judicial or the governmental or the retribu- 
tive : yet these he does not by any means, ignore, but esteems them 
tributary. Prayer is to him a reality ; and while he is yet speaking, 
his soul, upborne on the wings of aspiration, hears the response, and 
a spiritual interchange exists between the Father and His child. 

Whatever tends to infuse our ideas with the personality of God, 
Mr. Beecher dwells upon. He insists on the importance of realizing 
the Deity, in our conceptions, as a M God not afar off;*' not a vague 
spiritualism ; not an unimpressible existence, but a Person, living, 
acting, sympathizing, loving, hating ; determining, changing his de- 
termination ; threatening, withdrawing the threat on change of cir- 
cumstances : stretching forth the hand, speaking the word of love ; 
full off all emotions and vitalities and affections ; delighting in ac- 
tivities and creations and ingenuities ; rejoicing in beauty and 
strength and harmony ; infinite in all those powers and capacities 
in which man is finite. 

The voice of God is to him a fact. It is heard in the murmur- 
ing brook, and in the resounding sea ; in the whispering leaves, and 
in the rejoicing grain ; in the low-voiced winds, and in the reverber- 
ating storm : in hum of insect, and in song of bud : — all Nature is 
vocal with the Infinite Intelligence and the Infinite Love. It is God 
our Father, who made the world, and who wrought out its endless 
variety of ingenuities and adaptations ; it is our Father who sustains 
it with constant presence ; every spring is a new creation, as wonder- 
ful as when, at the beginning, H God spake, and it was done." He 
hears His voice also in daily providences, and in all the events oi 
life ; and he hears it, with distinctest utterance, in the u still, small 
voice" of the Spirit, which warns and reproves, and strives and in 
spires : speaking direct t© the heart of man in toned of unmistakabh - 
authority. And it is this living belief in the Personality and Provi 
dence of God, which not only gives distinctive form to his preach 
ing, but is Parent to the reliance, the quiet and the cheerfulness oi 
his character. 



VIEWS OF CHRIST. 149 

MR. BEECHER'S VIEWS OF CHRIST. 

To be rightly understood on this point, we must first say some- 
what concerning his way of looking at the New Testament ; pre- 
mising, that all these statements are necessarily imperfect, because 
of their briefness compared with the subject-matter, and because 
they are an attempt to reproduce to the view of another the impres- 
sion made on the mind by Mr. Beecher's sermons, without quo- 
tation from him except when specified. 

He regards many of the terms of Paul and Peter and John, 
describing Christ, and the illustrations used, as addressed, not to the 
intellect, through the narrow and precise forms which the intellect 
requires, but as addressed to the affections, through the imagination, 
in the more large and undefined forms which the imagination de- 
mands : that Paul did not speak in the sharply-outlined terminology 
of science or systematic theology, but from the heart to the heart, 
with all the richness and exuberance and unlimited sweep and 
swell which such language demands ; and that any attempt to re- 
duce his language within the strict and narrow limits of scientific 
statements, is derogatory and false ; that it strips his words of their 
life and beauty, and presents them sapless and dead to the human 
soul. And hence he cries : " Away with these theological systems, 
these abstract formulas, which destroy the kernel, and leave me noth- 
ing but the shell ; which press out the life-blood, and leave me noth- 
ing but the stock. They are the chill of Christian life. They stand 
between us and our God like a thick cloud. Sweep it hence ! Let 
us see Jesus as Paul and John saw Him, with the eye of love and 
not of the intellect. He is our Saviour, our Sanctifier, our Redeemer, 
our Forerunner, Intercessor, and Mediator ; our great High Priest. 
He is the way, the truth, and the life. He is the Son of God, one 
with the Father ; the power of God and the wisdom of God ; the 
brightness of His glory, and the express image of His person. He is 
the Captain of our salvation, the Bishop of our souls, the King of 
kings, and Lord of lords. He is Alpha and Omega, the beginning 
and the ending, which is, and which was, and which is to come ; 
the Almighty. He is the Root and Offspring of David, and the 



150 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

bright and morning Star ; the Anointed One ; the Faithful Witness ; 
the Word ; the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the 
world. With such multiplied terms, how can I, how dare I, at- 
tempt to compress into one strict formula the mighty concourse of 
appellations which fill the New Testament to overflowing % Let us 
add some, if need be, to represent our conception, but not take less. 
If any one can by any term of endearment or ascription, present 
Christ to himself more distinctly than Paul does, let him do it ; not 
insisting upon that term as scientific truth, accurately defined and 
imperative on all, T^ut as addressed to his own affections. The 
mother multiplies terms of endearment for her child, and so did Paul 
multiply expressions to set forth Christ ; but neither language should 
be reduced to logical precision. Theological systems are good in 
their place. They have their place as all sciences have, but that 
place is not the pulpit. What people need from the pulpit is re- 
ligious food — the bread of life. There is no science in nature ; God 
makes nature, and then Man makes the science. There are the 
flowers and the fruits, and Man makes the science of botany. There 
are the stars and the sun, and out of their regular motions Man makes 
the science of astronomy. All these sciences are well in their place. 
But when I want a bunch of flowers, I do not thank a man who 
brings me calyxes and petals, and pistils and stamens, all scientifi- 
cally analyzed and divided and labelled. When I want something 
to eat, I do not thank one for bringing me the component parts of 
bread and butter and coffee, chemically analyzed and scientifically 
arranged : the starch in one paper, and the saccharine matter in 
another, and the caffein in another. No. I want them mixed as 
Nature mixes them ; and so I want the Gospel given to me as 
Christ gave it, naturally, from His great heart, with all the freshness 
and beauty of life and experience. The people are hungry for the 
bread of life, and they are fed on its scientific elements. Let us get 
rid of these lifeless abstractions. Let us take the Gospel as it is ; in 
which I challenge any one to find the first approach to a theological 
system. It is fact, real life, living experiences ; and that is what we 
need in this day. Away with " plans of salvation" and " philoso- 
phies of the plan of salvation." We have nothing to do with God's 



VIEWS OF CHRIST. 151 

philosophies or plans. And any system which exalts His govern- 
ment above Himself, which makes Him subservient to His laws, is 
false. God wills, and that is enough. It is done. He is above all 
systems and all laws. He does what He wills in the armies of 
heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth ; and finite, earthly, 
temporal views of His government do those have who limit His lib- 
erty of pardon. ( He will have mercy on whom He will have mercy/ 
despite all the systems and plans of salvation from the Dark Ages to 
the present time." 

Returning to our starting-point, that Mr. Beecher holds to the 
orthodox faith, and bearing in mind his intense assertion of the per- 
sonality of the Deity, and that personality concentred in love ; as well 
as his disrespect for theological systems ; we can, with a good degree 
of accuracy, locate his views of the Saviour, and of the Atonement, 
without ever having heard a sermon from him on " the doctrine of 
the Trinity," indeed doubting whether he ever preached one. 

It is evident that he would not state the doctrine in any other 
terms than those used in the Bible ; and furthermore, that out of 
these manifold terms he would not construct a condensed formula, 
nor seek to coalesce the varied terms into one consistent and com- 
prehensive statement, adapted to the intellect by its sharply defined 
precision ; but he would leave them all as they stand, in their full, 
large, and natural expression, addressed to the affections through 
the imagination. Some chemist, by expensive fiery reduction, has 
made a diamond out of much charcoal, obtained by burning a regal 
tree. Mr. Beecher would prefer his view of Christ to remain in 
the tree shape, living, graceful, many-boughed, leaf-clothed, fruit- 
bearing, waving in the fresh breeze, rejoicing in the sunlight, vocal 
with singing birds, rather than to have it reduced by theological 
coalpits and crucibles to a pointed diamond, however sharply defined, 
lucid, or valuable. Moreover, he might say, that according to the 
laws of the human mind, the indefiniteness, if you please, of those large 
and varied terms which he prefers, nourishes a loftier and broader con- 
ception of Christ. Untrammelled by a precise formula, the mind soars 
upward, and embraces within its view a wider and grander reach, 
more in harmony with the mystery and the infiniteness of the God- 



152 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

head. And indeed lie does say, that "religious truth, dealing as it 
does mostly with the Unseen, and whose main element is faith, can 
only be properly presented to the mind through those suggestive 
types and figures which, addressed to the imagination, stimulate the 
mind to its self-realized and fuller apprehensions of the Unseen ; 
and that those who attempt to present religious truth by defined 
statements, to the intellect, violate God's laws of mind and Christ's 
practical illustration of them ; and that, consequently, all such terms 
as Intercessor, Mediator, and Forerunner, when by theological spec- 
ulatists taken out of the sphere of figures provocative to the imagina- 
tion, and forced into the sphere of scientific facts, become either 
barren or false." And we think he would condemn as presumptuous 
all efforts of poor finite Humanity to comprehend and state in its own 
poor language the incomprehensible mysteries of the united Father, 
Son, and Holy Ghost. Shall the finite comprehend the Infinite ? 
" Canst thou by searching find out God ? Canst thou find out 
the Almighty unto perfection ? As high as heaven, what canst thou 
do ? deeper than hell, what canst thou know ?" 

And, lastly, Mr. Beecher's apprehension of the nature of Christ 
would centre with peculiar attraction around His distinguishing 
attribute, as manifesting God in the flesh. Through Christ are we 
enabled to realize the personality of God, possessed of all human 
susceptibilities — "tempted like as we are, yet without sin;" and 
also in Christ, would the prominence which Mr. Beecher gives to 
God's love, find its most impressive and beautiful manifestation. 
" God so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son, that 
whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting 
life." If any one text could be singled out as embracing his the- 
ology it would be this, in which are grouped his favorite truths 
— God, a person; Christ, his Son; love, their essence; Human- 
ity, perishing; its salvation, worth the gift of Divinity; everlasting 
life, possible ; and believing on Christ, the way. And all views of 
Christ's death on the cross, which represent it as necessary to sat- 
isfy the claims of offended justice, or as a payment for the sins of 
the world, or as a justification in the sight of an intelligent universe 
of God's pardon of the sinner — all " commercial" views of Christ's 



VIEWS OF CHRIST. 153 

death, he ignores. We do not say he disbelieves them ; but he says 
that " we have nothing to do with that side of the subject. That is 
God's side, which He will take care of. It is enough for us to know 
that God deemed the death on the cross necessary, as we know from 
the fact that it took place ; but so soon as we attempt to show why 
it was necessary, we are out of our sphere. The whole drift of the 
Gospel in regard to Christ's death is man-ward, not God-ward. It 
seeks the reconciliation of man to God, not God to man. And Christ 
himself never, and the apostles very rarely, and then only inciden- 
tally, speak of His mission and death on the Divine side, but always 
on the human side. God loves — He will pardon ; that is enough for 
us to know." 

In a sermon on "Man's need of Christ," from Hebrews x. 1*7-22, 
in connection with the first chapter, he said " it was manifest that 
all the powers and attributes of Divinity were ascribed to Christ by 
the Bible ; and that if any of the relations of man to God, either of 
love or of worship, would be idolatry if attached to Christ, then 
the New Testament is the most ingeniously false and dangerous 
book in existence. So far as it is essential for us to know, Christ is 
God ; but when one attempts to take the circle of Christ's being, 
and lay it over upon that of the Father's, to see if the two are exactly 
equal, he aspires to grasp what is beyond his reach, and necessarily 
becomes bewildered in endless confusions and inconsistencies." 
And he added, " I disapprove of all attempts to compare God and 
Christ, because I believe emphatically that Christ is God. Neither do 
I regard Christ's life as an episode in His existence, but as an essen- 
tial part of it, naturally proceeding, as the blossoming time is part 
of the tree's growth. God had leaved in the world already, but 
when Christ came, He blossomed, and we took the fragrance. In- 
deed all we know, consciously and practically of God, is what we 
get through Christ. All else is vague and unrealized. The Uni- 
tarian says, ' I worship the Father.' He worships the same exist- 
ence that I do when I worship Christ ; and all the conception he 
has of the Father, he has gotten from Christ. And when I go to 
heaven, I expect God will meet me just as Christ met His disciples. 
He will take me by the hand, He will speak tenderly, He will talk 



154 HJJsEY WAED BEBOHER. 

with me sympatliizii.'^. iiw;:;:::^-. lovingly. I cannot 
Christ from God in my conceptions, and all difficulties and 
sions about His human and divine nature, and how related to one 
another and the Godhead; arise from absurd attem^s :: bring God 
: : the measuring standard of men and animals." 

And we are free to say. that we have never heard so irnpres- 
s: touching, and s: edited a r resents::::: ■:: Christ as was con- 
tained in this sermon, — Christ, as a living Saviour, ever present, and 
evei bring ::• whom the soul in its ecstasy of redemption cries out, 
" Whom have I in heaven but Thee I and these is none upon e:.::„ 
that I desire beside Thee '." 



ME, BEECHER S VIEWS 07 CHURCH MKMBKRSHII 

Persons are adnntfced to Plyniouth Church, as bo all orthodox 
Congregational churches, by assent to an orthodox aged, and 
jovenant Ye: dissent from the creed would not preclude admis- 
sion, on satisfactory evidence :: Christian character. Mr. Beecher 
thinks that persons maybe intellectually w.-;n^. and Ve: right at 
I Chrisdanlovc he males potest :: Christian fellowship, and 
love is expressed in action rather than in opinion. He judges from 
chars sfeei r.- :ker than from :: aed, and from the lire QB&hoJC than the 
beh*e£ Hr notes that the lives of some ace bettei than their ;:r-i 
and of others not 80 good. He would hold fellow ship with all in 
H he found wmnmniion ef '. s.:i~::sn feeling and symj ;.:hy in 
Christian work. H^: : :- hi invitation v resiling the Sacrament is 
peculiarly comprehensive. I: was on on§ occaaian exnsesBed as 
follows : 

"Christ has bid us do this in :eme:::::s:::e of Him: and He has 
said. ' Lo ! I am wjtia yon alway. even unto the end rid,' 

Sc letns approach this table as if He were here, as He was at that 
supper of old. And if there be in this congregation any steangeanB 
who would gladly jc in :>. "..-: them oeme. I will not ask for then 
creeds : I - pure if they ir.-mbers, * in good and 

regular standing:' but I will say, if there is any one here who 



REVELATION AND INSPIRATION. 155 

through penitence for sin, and longing for a pure life, has appre- 
hended Christ, and found Him precious to his soul — it is not we, 
it is Christ who invites him to sit at Ris table, and to partake 
with us of this feast of love. " And it should be understood that 
we use the terms "creed" and "belief" above, not in their broadest 
sense, so as to represent Mr. Beecher as holding the opinion that it 
matters not what a man believes, for this is as far from the truth as 
possible ; but rather that certain beliefs he esteems less essential than 
some others do, while entertaining them himself. 



MR. BEECHER's VIEWS OF REVELATION AND INSPIRATION.* 

On these subjects we have heard him preach two sermons. They 
were thoroughly studied and compacted, so that any omission, by so 
much, mars the completeness of the presentation ; yet some notes 
taken at the time may serve as valuable hints to those interested in 
such topics. Mr. Beecher stated at the outset, that no man can form 
a correct idea of the Scriptures till he gets rid of all notions which 
make it merely a book, prepared like other books. It is not so much, 
written as lived, and lived continuously through thousands of years. 
It is the record of the education of the human race by God, and 
running parallel with it. The great law of its composition was, 
that Truth should be given with relation simply to that which drew 
it out. 

You must imagine a race in the beginning born in ignorance. 
The idea that Adam and Eve had stores of knowledge, from the 
use of which the race has fallen away, is fabulous. Till the deluge, 
the earth was filled with overgrown creatures, ill-developed in their 
social and moral natures. When man came upon the earth, he was 
without knowledge. The stars spake not to him. He knew no for- 
eign lands. It was centuries before the* arts were discovered. He 
lay down to die upon herbs which had healing in them, and he 
knew it not. The metals were known only in their simplest uses. 
He had no laws, no sciences, no books, till thousands of years had 

* Abstract of two sermons. 



156 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

rolled away. And though it is preposterous to discuss God's de- 
signs, yet it is not, to say, that what God did, He meant to do. 
Had He meant to bring man on the world in full stature, man would 
not have walked through five thousand years in a state of mental 
somnambulism. 

If the race were to step on the earth as our children do into a 
school, the Bible would have been made for them, and the first man 
would have had it as well as the last. We find it already written 
and waiting for us, but the first generations found not a line. They 
found only the world into which they were born. The race has 
evolved the Bible, not the Bible the race, except in later days. God 
educated men, that through them He might write the Bible for 
later days. He evolved the mind of man in the process of educa- 
tion, and then He told what He had done, and that is the Bible. 

You will see the importance of this statement, and that by it a 
mass of rubbish is cleared away. There can be a superstitious wor- 
ship of the Book, as of any thing else. If the Bible is the expres- 
sion of God, then we must interpret it in one way. If it is an 
account of what was done for man by God, and through man, then 
we must look at it in another way. 

Revelation was not an act performed upon the writers of the 
Bible. It was an event in the life of man. The Bible has always 
followed the race until the time of Christ. Revelation was an his- 
torical fact outside of the Bible, before it was a recorded fact in the 
Bible. We should suppose, then, that its truths would be simple, 
and stated with reference to the ripeness of the times. We should 
expect it to look like a book written in the infancy of the race. 
And you will find that it is so ; that it is fragmentary, and obnox- 
ious to criticism, if you subject it to the canons of criticism by 
which books now are judged ; that the earlier books would contain 
a large mass of matter useful and vital in the first years, but no 
longer so, except as history. God would not reveal any thing 
which would not be just as true now as then, but the methods 
would be transitory. There is not one great truth in the Old Tes- 
tament that is not just as true now as when it was written ; nay, 
rather, those truths rose like stars, and now they shine like suns. 



REVELATION AND INSPIRATION. 157 

We understand so much, that Faith to us is as much more than 
theirs, as an oak is more than an acorn. But we should expect 
that the methods by which God taught men would be different then 
from now ; and so it is. We should expect that men would be per- 
mitted to do things which now they would not. The truths stand, 
but the methods change. You cannot take a man forty-five years 
old and make him look at the same picture-books, and play with 
the same toys, as in his childhood. So Christ says that many 
things were permitted because of " the hardness of their hearts." 
God allowed certain developments in the family, in the Church, in 
the nation, till He could do better. And this attempt to go back to 
the old world, and to those things which belong to its infancy — to 
polygamy and to slavery — is an attempt to make man apostatize 
from his manhood. Then they were children, now they are men. 
Yet not one jot or tittle of the great truths which are fundamental 
and humanitary have disappeared. They all stand, and are truer 
to us than to them. The customs, the rites, the ceremonies, are 
gone. We have other methods of obtaining truth, and the old ones 
have been left behind, as Christ's grave-clothes after He had risen. 

The distinction between Revelation and Inspiration is this : Reve- 
lation is the making known of things which were unknown to those 
who receive them. Inspiration is a divine action upon the human 
soul, which leads a man to make known things or to do things 
which otherwise he would not say or do. "No one needed a revela- 
tion to disclose to the Israelites the burning mountain, because they 
were there and saw it ; but if one were to record the facts, he might 
need inspiration to enable him to collect the salient points and show 
rightly the whole transaction. Revelation is imparting some new 
idea. Inspiration is imparting an influence by which he can know 
what is correct. If I tell my child about seas and countries which 
he has never seen, I reveal it to him. If I find him telling it 
to his brother in a dull, sleepy way, and I quicken up his mind 
by the action of my own, I act upon him very much like an inspi- 
ration. I do not give this analogy as declaring the way in which 
the Old Testament was given to man, but simply to show the dif- 
ference between revelation and inspiration. 



158 HENRY WAED BEECHEE. 

I understand the Scripture doctrine of inspiration to be, that God 
rules not only by influencing the senses of men in the ordinary 
way, but that He influences them by the direct action of His mind 
upon theirs. How this is done, what is the nature of this influ- 
ence, we do not know. We may suggest that it takes place in this 
way or that, but the suggestion is no better than a guess, for it is 
one of those things that is beyond the sphere of Nature or Sense ; 
and as He has not disclosed it to us, we shall not soon find it out. 

The inspiration of the writers of the Scriptures was not a separate 
thing, standing out apart from all analogies. It was not distin- 
guished by the fact that God's Spirit rested upon them, for his Spirit 
rests upon other men. Their inspiration was a high and enduring 
state, existing in the mind of one man for years, or of a series of 
men, so that it often takes scores of men to make the events which 
bring out the truth. It is not like the inspiration of the author, 
who, thinking intensely on his subject, becomes filled and per- 
meated, till the thought bursts forth in glowing imagery and living 
words. It was complex and laborious. 

God had reference to the original adaptedness of the men to the 
work. For example, Moses was prudent, kind, good, fertile in in- 
vention and judicious in administration ; and this he was by nature. 
He had the germs of these qualities in him, and they were devel- 
oped by God's Spirit, Without learning, a man is elementary all 
his life ; and therefore Moses was educated. He was brought up in 
Pharaoh's court, in all the learning of the Egyptians. There he was 
tested in actual life, was foiled, was exiled, and went into banish- 
ment ; till all mental passion was consumed ; and at eighty years of 
age he began life ; and he spent forty years more going with this 
people through their education. As part of that work, he reduced 
to writing their history ; he laid down a code of laws ; he estab- 
lished a ritual of worship ; and his inspiration covered all his ad- 
ministrative life, as well as the time spent in recording its history. 

Take David as another example. David had a loving nature, a 
heart of profound sensibility. He was in love all his life long. 
But this natural endowment was not enough. He must be broken 
by sorrows, and he was. He was tried by filial ingratitude ; he 



REVELATION AND INSPIRATION. 159 

was driven out of his kiDgdom ; lie was made to feel that only God 
stood between him and destruction. His Psalms are inspirations, 
but the inspiration rested upon him not merely while his pen was 
moving, but during all his experimental, actual life. 

After this came the era of the apostasy. The nation was strip- 
ped and spoiled, and went into foreign lands, and the ten tribes 
sank, and no man can tell where they went down. Now it was 
needful that beacon-lights should be set up, to tell men where they 
should walk ; and God brought forward for that purpose the Proph- 
ets, who would have been eminent men in any age, by natural fac- 
ulties ; and these" men increased by God's influence. The future 
was unveiled to them ; and thus inspired, they wrote their prophe- 
cies, which are not like the voice of man, but of God, and come 
down to us sounding through the ages, like the coming on of storms 
in mountain regions. 

At length came the fulness of time. Now, all other teachers 
were merged in Christ. He spoke those great moral truths which 
underlie Humanity. It has been said that He did not teach much 
that was new : there is more new truth and deeper truth in John's 
Gospel, than will serve the world for centuries; and it is truth 
which is not to be gotten by reading ; a man must grow up to it in 
his moral nature. 

I think those who doubt the influence of the divine mind upon 
men, cannot have a case more insoluble than the proceedings of the 
disciples before and after Pentecost. Before, it was as much as they 
could do to carry themselves alone. They did not understand 
Christ's words. They could not translate His parables. They were 
scattered hither and thither by His death. After His resurrection 
they rallied somewhat, and gathered in a prayer-meeting. Then 
came that sound as of a rushing, mighty wind, and the tongues of 
cloven fire, and instantly they are filled with new life. They are 
stronger than the whole world beside. No persecution can stay 
them. They go forth over the world, and wherever they come, they 
take the city, they take the town, they move great masses of men, 
and over all nations they work gigantic influences. God's inspira- 
tion is in them. 



160 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

I see no reason why the account of this change should not be 
taken literally. The most obvious is the most philosophical solution : 
God gave them this power by the action of His own mind. 

Their writings after this are the life of Christ, the history of their 
own preaching, and the letters which they wrote to various churches. 
Their judgments were made unerring ; they recorded rightly what 
they observed truly ; and they taught with authority. They were 
mostly from the lower ranks of society, but not of the lower ranks 
of men. They were eminently fitted by nature for their work. 
And all through the Bible, God employed men, as inspired men, 
who had a natural fitness for the special work. I do not know of a 
case in which a man was called to a work which was so different 
from his nature as to excite remark. "When the work required wis- 
dom, God called a wise man ; when learning, an educated man ; 
when bravery, a daring man ; when exalted poetry, an imaginative 
man ; and so throughout. Each was inspired so as to act with in- 
creased power in the line of his faculties. When human faculties 
were sufficient, they were used. W T ith things so low as to come 
within the reach of natural powers, these were employed, unassisted 
by inspiration ; but when insufficient, God added His influence. At 
times He raised them up so that they saw future events ; but all in 
strict analogy. 

Thus we see, that in all times, from Moses and Job to John, men 
have been employed and kept and guided so that they should do, 
without error, what God wanted them to do ; so as to work in one 
age for other ages. 

The question arises, Has this inspiration stopped 2 I have said 
that it was under an universal law that God was accustomed to in- 
fluence the minds of men. I think that God does really inspire men 
now ; but not officially, so to speak — rather, personally. It has not 
the authority of David's and John's inspiration ; but I believe that 
all exalted states of mind are inspired. I do not say that the baser 
moods are not also, but they are not inspired of God. 

A man is made to act, from the influence of organic objects ; from 
hunger and cold ; from animal passions ; from a thousand spheres 



PEESOXAL INSPIRATION. 161 

of influence we draw motives. But these are the lower influences, 
compared with the influence of God upon the soul. God has never 
cast us out of His arms. He does not leave us to ourselves. The 
strongest, best actions of men are the work of God. I think that I 
am inspired, not like a prophet, so that I can say to you, " Thus 
saith the Lord ;" but I believe that when I prepare a sermon, I have 
the mind of the Lord resting upon mine. Compared with the in- 
spiration of the Prophets, it is lower, subordinate, personal ; but it 
is real, and just as truly from God as that which rested on David. 
I think God inspires men for the right, for duty, for liberty, for de- 
fence of the truth ; and I think divine inspiration is also given to 
those who teach men the Beautiful. 

As a flower comes to the use of itself under the influence of the 
sun, so does a man under the influence of God. There are inspira- 
tions of God for public ends. Those laborers that are raised up to 
lead men according to His plans, have authoritative inspiration which 
enables them to do for their times what they could not do without 
it. I look upon all the Chiefs of men as walking in a sort of inspired 
dream, doing what God gives them to do ; and the religious teachers 
as acting under the influence of God's mind ; and so far as they are 
true, they are true by reason of God's influence. But such inspira- 
tion lacks official authority. It is given to the man that he may do 
his work. The men who were required to have an authoritative 
inspiration have passed away. The word now spoken is true to us, 
not because it has a " Thus saith the Lord," but because it meets 
the soul's want. Their work will not be repeated again. What- 
ever remains can be found out and proclaimed, without any other 
binding rule than the authority of its own nature. But the differ- 
ence between inspiration now and then, is not a difference in kind, 
but only in degree. Inspiration now is more diffused, and it is for 
the circle in which the man is to be the teacher ; but it is not so 
exalted, for we have no Bible to write, and we have no times such 
as those in which the prophets and apostles lived. Our work is to 
take the truth and the principles which we have, and to educate 
men by them ; and in this work, just in proportion as we keep our 
. 11 



162 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

hearts pure and clear, we shall be under the influence of God's 
teaching and guidance. 

I know of nothing which would so disenchant , the world as to 
take away this doctrine of the inspiration of God. I should not 
thank a man who, when I was looking at a picture and yielding 
myself to the influence of its beauty, should come and talk to me of 
oils and pigments, what mixtures produced this effect and imparted 
that light. So when a man works back to the elements in nature, 
to the cells which are the foundations of organization, in order to 
teach me that the world grows of itself, I do not thank him. I 
don't care for cells : I care not for the voice of storms, or the breath 
of flowers, if that is all they are ; but when I can hear and see in 
them that which tells me that God is in the world, and that His 
soul is the life-blood of the universe, then the outer world becomes 
a different thing, and every flower and leaf and bird and breeze has 
a voice. If it is so in the outer, how much more in the inner ! As 
I look over the human life collected here, I do not know how God 
is dealing with this one or with that ; but if I should cease to believe 
that He is dealing with you, not only now, but at your homes, in 
the street, at the store, in the shop — if you were to take away from 
me the thought that God's Spirit is brooding upon men, you would 
take away almost all my interest in life. For man, taken by him- 
self, apart from God's connection with him, is the meanest thing on 
earth, the most beggarly and contemptible : there is nothing that a 
man can get along with so ill as himself. But when I think of all 
men as under God's influence, watched by His providence, tended 
by His love, constrained by His Spirit, then there is something of 
God's majesty in the meanest, and dignity suffuses life. 

When I have that state of mind in which God sinks out of sight 
and His presence is lost to me, then life loses its interest to me, and 
the circumstances and duties of life are like an old herbarium dried 
and faded out. But when I come back to a better thought, when 
once more I believe that God is with me, and I hear the voice of 
Christ saying " I will never leave thee nor forsake thee," then the 
heart-throbs fly again, and living or dying I am the Lord's ! 

My brother, you may not be inspired to write a Bible, for that 



VIEWS OF PRAYER. 163 

work is done. But you have something to do. You are not born 
by chance, not washed up on the shore of time like the shell of a 
dead shell-fish. God sends every man into the world on some 
errand, and the needful skill and strength to perform yours, you are 
to gain by the divine influence. Cleanse, then, your minds, so that 
the inspiration of God, resting upon you day by day, may lead you 
rightly to accomplish that to which you were sent ; and when, after 
a few years, the body is dropped and the soul is in the presence of 
God, we shall no more need this inspiration, for we shall take our 
life from His looks ; and when the ransomed of Zion come with 
songs, be thou amongst them, oh my soul ! And thou too be there, 
my brother and my sister ; let us dwell together in Heaven !" 



MR. BEECHER S VIEWS OF PRAYER. 

All questionings as to how the prayers of mortals can change the 
preordained plan of one who sees the end from the beginning, and 
is " the same yesterday, to-day, and forever," Mr. Beech er sweeps 
away by saying, that " with the how we mortals have nothing to do. 
God will take care of His decrees without our assistance, and we 
need not be anxious about His immutability. It is enough for us to 
know that prayer is required — no, not so, but that prayer is granted, 
a blessed privilege from God to man. * While they are yet speak- 
ing I will hear,' ' Ask and it shall be given you,' are assurances 
from God too precious and too direct to be lost amidst metaphysical 
entanglements about God's sovereignty. And not only is prayer 
revealed through the Bible as a mighty power for good in human 
affairs, but also through the blessed experiences of thousands of 
Christians. Prayer should be not only an expression, but a state. 
It should be the prevailing posture of our souls. Prayer in words 
has its advantages over silent supplication, because it is a law of the 
mind that expression develops and increases the feeling, yet the 
essential of prayer is its truth to the life of one's heart. God looks 
at the heart. The spontaneous aspiration, the unspoken supplication 
may reach Him far quicker than the well-worded petition." Form- 



164 HENRY WARD BEECHES. 

ality in prayer, or the use of phrases which have lost their meaning 
to the speaker, and are used because others do, is offensive to him. 
Xeither does he encourage a liturgy for public worship, as do some 
of his denomination. The criticism by the Ritualists, that extempore 
prayer shuts off the people from all share in public worship, he 
meets by insisting on Congregational Singing. To promote this he 
has been engaged for several years in preparing a hymn-book, which 
is just published. It contains 1374 hymns, accompanied by 367 
tunes. It has been a work of great labor, manifestly executed with 
fidelity and enthusiasm. It is exciting interest and discussion. 
Whether it will be generally adopted remains to be seen. But so 
far as this is certain, that by its assistance his church will present 
an illustration of Congregational Singing more impressive than ever 
before realized. 



MR. BEECHER 8 SOLUTION OF THE PROBLEM OF EVIL.* 

His proposition is, that suffering is not an accident, but that it en- 
ters into the constitution of this world, and forms a part of the Di- 
vine idea. This view is denied by those who think that suffering 
arises from the violation of the laws of the body ; that God made 
man only to enjoy, and that suffering is not the result of Providence. 
So far as this view leads to better obedience to the laws of health, 
Mr. Beecher sympathizes with it ; yet he contends that when all 
men shall have, each in his own measure, obeyed law, yet suffering 
will not disappear ; for although, in the majority of cases, it comes 
from violation of law, yet- it also adheres in the constitution of the 
soul. In most cases it is not the suffering which is the most painful, 
but the sense which it brings with it that there is something wrong 
— a misadjustment somehow — and that a man loses somewhat of 
hope and confidence in God. 

The facts of this world are, first, that all our faculties have a dou- 
ble constitution. They are susceptible equally to pain and to plea- 
sure. Every man, as created by God, has this double nature. 

* Abstract of a Sermon. 



PROBLEM OF EVIL. 165 

Secondly, destruction is as plainly written on the outward world as 
life is. The world is full of dangerous things. Death is in every 
step we take. The most astounding fact in the globe is that arrange- 
ment by which the life of one race depends upon the destruction of 
the race below it, all the way up from animalculae to Man. Pain is 
continually on the larboard or starboard, and life consists in steering 
between. These facts are notorious, and. we must either adopt the 
old doctrine of two Gods, one of good and another of evil, or else al- 
low that both pain and pleasure are of Divine origin. 

The third fact is, that pleasure and pain are invariable concomi- 
tants, and that the more an animal enjoys, the more it suffers. The 
two elements are measures of each other. And the higher in the 
scale of being one advances, the greater the suffering, as well as the 
greater the enjoyment. And when we reach man, we find that the 
lower he is in the spiritual scale, the less he suffers and the less he 
enjoys ; and the greater his development, the greater are both enjoy- 
ment and suffering. Hence, when Christ's disciples asked Him if 
they might sit at His right hand and left in His kingdom, He recog- 
nized this fact by replying : " Can you drink of the cup which I 
drink of ?" As much as to say, that such a lofty position can only 
be attained through corresponding suffering. 

From these facts it is rational to infer that happiness is not the ob- 
ject of our life, but that the whole creation is arranged for the edu- 
cation or the highest development of the human race, through the 
twofold arrangement of pleasure and pain. And he who attempts to 
rise with happiness and without pain, is trying to fly with one wing. 

Secondly, that the highest attainments are only reached through 
the greatest suffering ; and hence that a person should not feel that 
God is angiy with him because he suffers — because he is bereaved, or 
poor, or persecuted ; but rather that God is fitting him for some 
higher post, that He is giving him superior advantages ; or, as the 
Bible says, " whom He loveth He chasteneth." With this view, suf- 
fering becomes a part of happiness. We can fulfil the apostle's 
injunction, to " rejoice always ; and again I say, rejoice." Trials cease 
to be opaque, and become luminous. 

Thirdly, we may be sure that God will administer suffering in that 



166 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

way, and to that amount, which will serve the highest good of the 
race. Men say : " I do not deserve to suffer more than that other 
one ; and why is it that my troubles come so thick, and my heart is 
so wrung ?" Just as if God were a Justice and he a criminal, and 
every blow was for some sin. Not so. The problem of how much 
a man ought to suffer involves an amount of elements which no hu- 
man being can grasp. -All his various faculties, his mission in life, 
his future position in heaven; all his relations to others and to hu- 
manity, are to be taken into the account, and one must trust the 
whole matter with God. 

And, fourthly, it must be borne in mind that all this immensely 
intensified elaboration of this life is to fit us for another existence. 
In that there is to be no pain : " All tears shall be wiped away." 

Hence we should keep in mind that character, not happiness, is 
the end of life. That a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of 
the things which he possesseth, but in what he is. That we should 
not flinch from pain, nor murmur, but bear it bravely. That life here 
is not the highest good. And that when one's friends die, we should 
go to the grave, not singing mournful psalms, but scattering flowers. 
Death was wrecked long ago. Christ has taken the crown from the 
tyrant. And when Christians walk in black, and sprinkle the 
ground with tears, then is the very time when they should illu- 
minate ; and as the disciples found the angels in Christ's grave, so in 
the grave where any of His loved disciples have lain are there an- 
gelic messengers of consolation, if we would only see them. Then 
let us thank God that in this world of suffering there is also death, 
since death brings us to God and immortality. Yes, death is the 
medicine of life : Hereafter, the explanation of Here." 



MR. BEECHER's PHILOSOPHY. 

There are certain elements of Mr. Beecher's philosophy which have 
an important bearing on his preaching. We have had no means of 
ascertaining these more advantageous than his public discourses; 
but it is not difficult to discern a man's philosophy from his ser- 



PHILOSOPHY. 167 

mons, because religious belief, not less than intellectual, is typed 
by it. 

Mr. Beecher does not adopt the " selfish system" of Paley, which 
bases the distinction between right and wrong on the principle of 
self-interest, which assumes that an act is right because it accords 
with one's advantage, and not according to eternal principles of right, 
inwrought with the constitution of the universe. Neither does he 
subscribe to the philosophy of Locke, which, in making no distinc- 
tion between the Reason and the Understanding, and in allowing to 
Man no innate ideas of right and wrong, makes no distinction be- 
tween Man and an intelligent brute, except that of degree or a higher 
development ; and leads to the logical deduction that Man, being 
destitute of a fixed guide of morals within himself, cannot be held 
responsible for moral conduct. But Mr. Beecher holds to that phi- 
losophy which, in opposition to those two, both in respect to the ab- 
solute idea of right, in distinction from the impulse of self-interest, 
and in regard to the supremacy of the pure Reason and the innate 
moral nature, sets forth man as a being responsible for his acts, be- 
cause possessed of a natural conscience. ' 

This indwelling conscience receives aid from other sources, as from 
the revealed will of God, in the Bible, in His providence, and in His 
created works or Nature ; but it existed as the guide before the Bible 
was made, and before man had learnt the mind of the Creator from 
His providential dealings, or had evolved His attributes from the en- 
compassing universe. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say, 
that the judgment is aided from external sources, and that the con- 
science stands in all as the infallible authority, the " image of God'' 
in which man was created. 

In this philosophy consists much of the force and pungency of his 
preaching ; because he appeals directly to conscience, ignoring all mo- 
tives of prudence or self-interest to repentance and love, and bringing 
powerfully to bear, as immutable facts, man's free agency and indi- 
vidual responsibility. 

From this Mr. Beecher advances to the position, which is funda- 
mental in morals as in ethics, that our decisions — not only in regard to 
the right and wrong of actions, but also in regard to questions of 



168 



HENRY WARD BEECHEE. 



judgment and discernments in Art and Taste, and indeed in regard to 
all the positions which the human soul takes in its wide-sweeping 
domain of moral, intellectual, sesthetical, and spiritual concerns, 
(not embracing facts addressed to the physical understanding, like 
those of mathematics) — that our decisions originate in, and are 
made, not by the Head (in popular phrase), not by the Understanding, 
operated on by argument, not by the reasoning faculty, not logically 
deduced from premises ; but that mir decisions are made by the 
Heart (in popular phrase) — by that part of the spiritual nature which 
includes feeling, emotion, and conscience. Hence, if the heart is 
only right, if it is pure and true, our decisions will be right. That 
men use the head to hunt up reasons for decisions already made by 
the heart, and heap around with defensive argument positions 
already taken ; that God, through the influence of His Spirit, 
exerts a direct illuminating power on the heart (or the conscience), 
thus assisting the efforts of man towards holiness; that Regene- 
ration is the initiative in this new course of purity, and light, 
and truth, and life ; and that when Christ said, " The light of 
the body is the eye ; if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole 
body shall* be full of light; but if thine eye be evil, thy whole 
body shall be full of darkness, 1 ' he meant to illustrate this fundamen- 
tal spiritual truth of the " luminousness of the heart" which, when 
true, radiates before a man, upon his path through life, infallible 
light, which, in the heart's perfection, shines full T orbed and glorious, 
impelled in transcendent clearness by the indwelling Spirit; and 
that " if the light that is in thee be darkness," if the heart be cor 
rupt and unfit for the indwelling of the Holy Ghost, verily may 
Christ say, " How great is that darkness !" 

It cannot fail to be seen that this position is fundamental. And 
the term " radical," sometimes applied to Mr. Beecher's views loosely 
and falsely, may properly attach to this ; because it lies at the root 
of philosophical and moral systems, and is calculated to unsettle 
established notions, which have come to be regarded as permanent 
institutions. And yet he should by no means be misapprehended, as 
extending the doctrine of the direct influence of God's Spirit, so far 
as to paralyze judgment and reason by supposed direct revelations ; 



LUMINOUSNESS OF THE HEART. 169 

or depreciate the value of the Bible before pretended inspirations. 
Neither does he detract from the value of laws and rules ; " they are 
leading-strings to bring us along the path of life to God ; they are 
the chart of the navigator; they are the experiences of those of 
more generous endowment, set up as guides for the rest to follow. 
There are many to whom they are necessary. In their moral infir- 
mity some need help, and rules are their crutches, which, if they 
throw down, they fall themselves. But when a man attains to 
luminousness of feeling, he does not need laws to guide him. He 
will not despise or break right laws ; but he will go precisely as they 
direct, not because of them, but because he cannot help it ; and Love 
is the source of this luminousness. The feeling of love is a better 
guide than any law. You cannot make any law so good for the 
heart which loves, that it will not rise above and overflow it. So 
long as a man needs a law, he must have it ; but the moment he says, 
'The law requires me to do so much, and I want to do more than 
that,' then he can do without law. He is a law unto himself, bet- 
ter than external rules. And the highest type of character is that 
which is made up of feelings so luminous, that a man takes a higher 
path than he can ever take, if he is bound by rules and precedents. 
And hence it is that Christ said — 'Love is the fulfilling of 

THE LAW.' " 

As was said of the connection between Mr. Beecher's faith in the 
personality and providence of God, and his cheerful, quiet, and reli- 
ant character ; so do we esteem this philosophy to. lie at the bottom 
of the spontaneity, vigor, and reliance of his Extempore. Indeed, 
the two beliefs stand so close, as interchangeably to control action 
. and speech. He trusts God's care in life, and is serene ; he trusts 
God's inspiration in the pulpit, and is brave. Every one is impressed 
with the genuineness and frankness of what he says. It is manifest 
that the man has faith in his impulses. Prudence has given the 
helm to conviction. The fear of man has recoiled before the voice 
of God. He not only says what he thinks, but what he feels. He 
not only says nothing disbelieved, but nothing unbelieved. He 
preaches and prays no further than he has lived. His utterances 
are experiences, and this is a secret of his power. It disarms criti- 



170 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

cism. We all love the genuine, and hate Cant. What care we if 
the man does offend taste, or violate hoary rules of pulpit rhetoric, or 
discard sacred ruts of long-travelled Exposition ? " At auy rate, he 
says what he means, and I can understand what he means," out- 
speaks the blunt hearer. " Whether he's orthodox or not, I can't 
say ; but he's a noble man, and I believe in him." 

A friend once wrote us his impressions in the following words : 
" I have been to hear H. W. B. for the first time, and I never shall 
forget the sermon. The rain was pouring in torrents, but his 
church was crowded. His text was, * For they being ignorant of 
God's righteousness, and going about to establish their own right- 
eousness, have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of 
God.' He commenced with the statement, that ' every man has a 
conscience/ and proceeded to expound the truth, showing that 
each one, with this innate idea of right and wrong, was con- 
stantly striving to justify himself, according to his standard of right — 
' going about to establish his own righteousness.' He then presented a 
number of ways resorted to in this eagerness to justify one's self — the 
devices to keep on good terms with conscience, dispersing c refuges 
of lies' without mercy, and identifying and parcelling characters, 
with a nicety and fidelity which left those who were not actually 
located, in a very small minority. He appealed directly to self- 
consciousness and the moral nature ; and it was useless to evade. 
The sermon was one hour and a quarter long, yet weariness never 
occurred to me ; and I lost not a word. It was extempore, and yet 
evidently the result of severe study. The heads, which were many, 
were written out, and showed, by their close and accurate wording, the 
analysis they had undergone. Therefore, when by his logic he had 
convinced the understanding, by his lucid presentation of truth 
bowed the reason and roused the conscience, then the feelings of 
all were in his power, and he made the nerves to thrill, and the 
tears to start, as I never experienced in a religious assembly. A lady 
behind me had shown some emotion ; but when, in portraying the 
relation between Christ and the sinner, he said, ' Christ stands like a 
father to his prodigal son, and he says, My son, my son, let the past 
all be sunk between us, and we will be to each other as in days gone 



" PULPIT HUMOR." 171 

by — you shall love me, and I will love you, and we will live to- 
gether as we used to do,' her feelings broke over control, and she 
wept aloud. A young Englishman sat by me, who had been pre- 
vailed upon to attend church instead of a social circle. His lip 
quivered in effort to restrain emotion ; but it would not do ; the 
tears started from his eyes, he was overcome. And it seemed to me 
that a person who had never seen a Bible could from that sermon 
have apprehended the essential truths of Christianity." 



MR. BEECHER'S "PULPIT HUMOR." 

The union of humor with seriousness is by some esteemed rare ; 
by some, impossible ; and by others, inconsistent ; yet a careful 
analysis and observation will show all these notions to be incorrect. 
The universal fact will appear, that in those strong religious charac- 
ters, whose moral power controls the circle in which they move, 
whether compressed within a neighborhood, or embracing a conti- 
nent, the appreciation of humor always exists, and usually the ge- 
nius for it. Indeed, a foundation of earnestness seems essential to 
the development of the highest form of humor, as the delicatest 
carving must be wrought out of the solidest wood ; and mirthful- 
ness of character is evidence of genuineness, as fruit-bearing trees 
alone produce gay blossoms. 

Hence, in humor Mr. Beecher is gifted. He exhales it as a flower 
does perfume. In days of summer recreation in the country, it is 
beyond compare : like a mountain stream, it flows limpid, spark- 
ling, incessant, and roaring. It is up before the sun ; it droops not 
beneath meridian heat ; and birds and flowers have closed their 
eyes long ere it goes to sleep. 

But humor with Mr. Beecher is not alone a recreation. It is a 
power. He brings it designedly and effectively to bear upon errors 
or conceits undeserving the more ponderous artillery of serious ar- 
gument. He would not exclude humor from the pulpit. Yet his 
indulgence in it has been misrepresented and exaggerated by loose 
gossips. What is called his " pulpit humor " consists mostly in apt 



172 HENRY WARD BEECHEK. 

Illustration. Those sensations which more than once in a discourse 
rim electrically through his audience — a murmur and a thrill, which 
is a shadow of applause — are the consequence, not of a funny speech, 
nor of an indecorous speech, but of a good illustration, which, by its 
originality and. aptness, pictures to the mind the abstract truth in 
such living light, that the heart inevitably throbs quicker. 

Trained minds are fed and stimulated by abstract truth ; but 
most minds, as people average, can see truth but dimly, except 
when made concrete in illustrations. They must have word-pic- 
tures. But it is not the picture which charms them ; it is the truth 
which the picture" reveals. They see, at last, with clear vision, that 
which, for years beneath other pulpits, they have been in vain 
straining eyes to discern, and they rejoice. Would that every 
preacher might apprehend this fact of the human mind ! 

This power of illustration is wonderful with him. He presses 
every thing into his service ; nay, rather, creation comes, as it were, 
and lays her treasures at his feet. And to a mind like his, illustra- 
tions are as vivid as if portrayed on canvas, and so abounding, that 
he uses but a fraction of those which come to him. It is manifest 
that earth, and air, and sea are to him full of symbols, and every 
object illustrates spiritual truths. "We do not say that every preach- 
er can have this affluence of illustration ; yet any one who has soul 
enough to preach at all, can, by the right looking at Nature and 
things, acquire a facility for tracing analogies between the external 
and the spiritual, which will illuminate both heart and sermon. 

To judge justly of a man's style, we must take into account the 
purpose he seeks to gain. One writes differently for a daily paper 
and a Quarterly. It is manifest that Mr. Beecher seeks to reach the 
heart of the people. He does not aim too high. He would not 
fire too low, but would send into the thickest of the ranks the ar- 
rows of conviction. Neither does he fire at random, nor at a theo- 
logical mark, nor at some old dismantled fort of error, which the 
enemy long ago deserted. He does not belong to the regular 
army, who, trained at seminaries, are only effective when in the 
way of prescribed evolutions ; but corresponds to that select body of 
riflemen at the battle of Saratoga, who, each on his own hook, un- 



"pulpit humor." 173 

erringly picked out epauletted officers. -And justice can be done to 
good taste by those whose refined sensibilities are offended by Mr. 
Beecher's illustrations; and yet even those persons conclude that 
they would not have Mr. Beecher do otherwise. He was once illus- 
trating the difference between established character and occasional 
impulse by a supposed dialogue, as follows : — " A friend says to me, 
• What a selfish, hard, miserly man Mr. So and So is ! He never 
does a generous act.' I reply, ' Are not you mistaken ? Certainly 
you are, for I heard the olher day of his giving a barrel of flour to 
a poor widow with six children.' ' Yes, yes (with skeptical inflec- 
tion), that may be so, but I reckon it's the first spark seen out of 
that man's chimney for twenty years.' " This, perhaps, is as hu- 
morous as any thing in a sermon of his. It certainly pleased his 
audience as much. Or take another bolder illustration. " A rich 
man ought to be like a fire-engine, which sucks in at one end and 
spouts out at the other (with accompanying upward gesture, drama- 
tizing the operation), putting out the fires of hell which the devil is 
always kindling." 

In his famous speech at the Metropolitan meeting, to celebrate 
the passage of the Maine Law, he said, " They tell us there will be 
a reaction against the Maine Law. A reaction ! We can't go back ! 
You might as well try to crowd a full-grown chicken back into its 
shell," 

He was once illustrating (in a week-day lecture, the connection 
between freedom and religious institutions in Kansas) what he 
styled " the moral power of a Sharp's rifle," and said : " I am a peace 
man. I believe in moral suasion. I want to see Kansas covered 
with churches, and tracts, and Bibles ; but just now I know of noth- 
ing so likely to keep the peace as a good supply of Sharp's rifles. 
It's wonderful the amount of moral suasion they have over those 
Missourians. ' Send the Bible,' do you say, to those Border Ruffians? 
Why, the Bible is addressed to the conscience, and they haven't any. 
You might as well read the Bible to a herd of buffaloes !" 

This idea he afterwards enlarged into an article (replying to 
attacks made upon him by two religious newspapers), from which we 
make extracts. 



174 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

" Is the doctrine of personal physical self-defence wrong ? Is it 
wrong for a community to defend itself by force against force ? Or, 
if physical resistance to physical violence is right, does it mean that 
the people of Kansas had no just occasion of alarm, and no reason 
for arms ? Or, is the offence only this, that a clergyman should en- 
courage and praise those wise men for doing their duty courageously 
when wickedly attacked ? Or, is it only the comparison made be- 
tween the efficiency of Sharp's rifles and the Bible when employed 
to beat off drunken vagabonds ? 

" The facts were simply these : A peaceful town was for many 
days threatened with assault and destruction by a lawless band of 
marauders, who, in morals, character, and purpose, were plainly 
nothing different from so many pirates on the sea, or bandits upon 
the land. To attempt to restrain such men only by an appeal to 
their justice, to their respect for human rights, to their conscience — 
men raked together from the purlieus of a frontier slave State, 
drugged with whisky, and hounded on by broken-down and desper- 
ate politicians — to neglect proper means of defence, to refuse arms 
and intrenchments, and to trust goods, dwellings, and life to such 
a frenzied crew of unmitigated scoundrels, would have been little 
short of absolute madness. 

" But these very men do understand the force of courage ; of 
firmness ; of the spectacle of armed citizens, who will calmly de- 
fend their rights with such force as may be necessary for their 
preservation. 

" We praised them for their wisdom and their courage. We 
praise them again. Their stand was noble, and salutary to the 
country. And we said, that in the circumstances in which the men 
of Lawrence were placed, the knowledge that they had of Sharp's 
rifles, and were determined to use them, would produce a more salu- 
tary impression upon vagabond politicians, and work more efficiently 
for peace, than all the moral suasion in the world. Since the world 
began, moral suasion has always been the better for a little some- 
thing to stand on. Honesty is a very good thing, but laws, courts, 
and officers help men very much in the exercise of that moral 
grace. 



"sharp's kifles." 175 

" The Bible is a book of moral truths. In that sphere where 
moral truths are proper, it stands before all other instruments. But 
moral influences are not designed nor adapted to every work which 
needs to be done. In engineering, in husbandry, in navigation, there 
are powers which are mightier in these spheres than a Bible. Where 
timber is to be felled and hewn, an axe is better than a Bible. Nor 
is it detracting from the merit of the Book to say so. If a child 
is learning its figures, an Arithmetic is better than a Bible. If 
thieves and burglars are to be morally reformed, the Bible is the 
fountain of right influence. But while a thief is picking your 
pocket, or a burglar is prying open your door, would you treat him 
to a Bible or a police officer ? 

"It is the merest captiousness of a fault-finding disposition to 
make it an offence for a man to say that there are cases in which 
physical forces produce moral effects more certainly than the highest 
moral truths. And if there ever was a case it was this very one in 
hand. The drunken rabble had been taught that courage was the 
height of manhood, and that cowardice was the most despicable vice. 
They had been taught that a Yankee was a coward to his heart's 
core, that the smell of powder was more potent upon his fear than 
even money upon his avarice. 

" When, then, these ignorant fellows saw courage added to thrift ; 
a calm, unboastful, but immovable determination to defend their 
rights, and to die rather than to yield one hair's breadth of principle, 
it inspired both respect and fear ; and there can be no question, in 
the minds of any who know what such sort of men are made of, 
that this armed courage of the Kansas emigrants did more to pro- 
duce a recognition of their rights, than a hundred sermons or a 
thousand Bibles. And we say again, and with more emphasis than 
ever before, that when men have been left ignorant and uneducated, 
when Northern moral imbecility has left them jvithout the least re- 
spect for the rights of Northern men, when drunk with whisky, and 
urged on by brawling leaders, it is no time to deal with them by 
Bibles. That work should have been done before. That being 
neglected, and the crew of infuriate wretches being on the eve of a 
murderous assault, the sword and the rifle are now in order." 



176 HENRY WARD BEECITER. 

He once said of those, who try to interpret John's Book of Reve- 
lation, by accurate calculation, as follows : " Those who with a pair 
of compasses and measuring-line seek to get at the truth of these 
glowing pictures of John's Revelation, who add and subtract and 
divide, who try to find a Caesar in some lion, and a Bonaparte in 
some he-goat ; who would reduce to mathematical precision these 
large, resplendent, glowing illustrations of universal truths— the great 
truth that God rules, that justice will triumph at last, that 
oppression will not always reign — those inspired images by which 
the Christian heart may be strong and quiet, during all the 
long days of discouragement and persecution, when the wicked 
taunt and say, ' Where is your God — where is your higher law V — 
when wealth and high civil station testify on the side of wrong — 
those precise, unimaginative, barren minds, who overlook all this, 
and study Revelation as they would a mathematical problem — why, 
they might as well measure one of Michael Angelo's pictures by 
the square inch, and say it was better than Raphael's, because two 
feet larger ; they might as well weigh their mother's love with a pair 
of steelyards !" Now what says the cultivated hearer to this ? " I 
do not like it ?" Very well, you do not like it for yourself — you 
would have been altogether satisfied if he had stopped with the 
illustration of Raphael's picture, for that filled your mind. But re- 
member, that besides you, in that house, were a thousand people 
who had never b^en inspired by Art, but who did know a mother's 
love ; who had never seen a picture by Raphael, but had seen a pair 
of steelyards. Was it not best to clinch the truth in their minds, 
as well as yours, even though the kitchen must be visited as well as 
the Picture Gallery ? 

Mr. Beecher is peculiar in his habit of remarks when giving out 
notices. He sometimes talks for a half hour before the sermon, at 
which times he brings the Secular and Religious into juxtaposition, 
discussing week-day affairs from the Sabbath stand-point. His say- 
ings at this time are marked by irresistible good sense, happy in- 
sight, boldness, bluntnes3 often, and not a little entertainment. And 
in a discussion of his pulpit humor, it is just to him to note, that 
most of those sayings which circulate the country as specimens of 



177 

his pulpit oratoiy, were not said in sermons, but in this preliminary 
interlude. Moreover, the temperament of such a man must be 
considered. We doubt not he is sometimes humorous by feature 
or tone, when he is entirely unaware of it. And yet, with all allow- 
ance, it is fair to recognize the fact, that he lessens the effect of his 
solemn appeals, in the hearts of some, by his " hits," and leads very 
excellent people to wish that he had " left out that one sharp sen- 
tence." 

We have dwelt at length upon the two topics of theological 
sys^ms and pulpit humor, because Mf. Beecher's views on these are 
more warmly approved or more severely criticised than all his other 
'views ; and because upon these, opinions split ; and while one Chris- 
tian enthusiastically maintains that he is " the Paul of the nineteenth 
century," a brother Christian denounces him as " rearing up a gen- 
eration of scoffers," and forbids the household to hear him preach. 
But to form a fair estimate, the length of our discussion on the subject 
of theologies must not be made the measure of the comparative 
space Mr. Beecher devotes to them. It is at infrequent intervals that 
he fully discusses them, although he often makes a side thrust ; for 
he doubtless esteems the reverence for old theological systems as a 
prominent error of the Church of To-day. Yet it is not that he 
objects to systems (but only to what he esteems wrong systems), as 
must be manifest from the illustrations we have given of his own 
thoroughly systematized views ; nor that he objects to Theologies, 
if only they keep what he esteems their proper place, the Study 
and Seminary ; and do not invade the pulpit. 

To conclude this division, we present one article of Mr. Beecher's, 
which has already appeared in print, in reply to an article in " The 
Puritan Recorder," entitled, " Preaching to the Times." 

" The pulpit seeks the education of man's moral nature by the 
power of Divine truth. The pulpit begins where all other lecture- 
ships end. It aims at the conversion of the soul from worldliness 
and selfishness to a spiritual and truly godly state. This result is 
to be sought chiefly by the power of the thoughts and the facts 
which God has revealed concerning himself, and then by the power 
of the truths in like manner revealed concerning man's nature and 

12 



178 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

character, his immortality and destiny. There is an intrinsic fitness 
in these highest possible truths of the Divine Being and Govern- 
ment to work upon the soul, and develop its spiritual nature. And 
when, by God's Holy Spirit, the heart is aroused and excited to that 
degree which makes it susceptible of feeling and understanding such 
spiritual truths, and it yields itself to be imbued by them, and con- 
trolled by them, it has been born again. It has become the new 
child of the Spirit of the Word. 

" Now all preaching is to be judged by its relation to this end. 
That discourse which discloses to the human soul the real character 
of God, and the essential relations which He sustains to men, so that 
the thoughts do not rest upon the vehicle, but upon the thing itself—* 
the very truth — is preaching. 

" That discourse which leaves the thoughts upon the sermon itself, 
not upon the truth which it seeks to convey, is a secular lecture, no 
matter whether it be on the subject of the Trinity, of Sovereignty, 
of Heaven, or any other sacred theme. An elaborate sermon, stuffed 
full of scholastic learning, tied and bound by nice qualifications and 
balancings, or split up and fringed with subtle definitions and fine 
distinctions, whether it be upon the Decrees, upon Human Agency 
and Responsibility, or upon any other solemn topic, is a mere phil- 
osophical lecture, unfit for the pulpit or the Sabbath. 

" A sermon that is dry, cold, dull, soporific, is a pulpit monster, and 
is just as great a violation of the sanctity of the pulpit, as the other 
absurd extreme of profane levity. Men may hide or forsake God's 
living truth by the way of stupid dulness, just as much as by pert 
imagination. A solemn nothing is just as wicked as a witty nothing. 
Men confound earnestness with solemnity. A man may be eagerly 
earnest, and not be very solemn. They may also be awfully solemn, 
without a particle of earnestness. But solemnity has a reputation. 
A man may be a repeater of endless distinctions, a lecturer in the 
pulpit of mere philosophical niceties, or he may be a repeater of 
stale truisms ; he may smother living truths by conventional forms 
and phrases, and if he put on a very solemn face, use a very solemn 
tone, employ very solemn gestures, and roll along his vamped-up 
sermon with professional solemnity above an audience of sound men ; 



179 

men, at least, soundly asleep, — that will pass for decorous handling 
of God's truth. The old pharisaism is not dead yet. The difference 
between Christ and His contemporary teachers was, that He spake 
life-truth in life-forms, with the power of His own life in their ut- 
terance. The rabbis spake old orthodoxy, dead as a mummy, but 
they spake it very reverendly. They might not do any good, but 
they never violated professional propriety. Nobody lived, everybody 
died about them. But, then, their faces were sober, their robes 
exact, their manner mostly of the Temple and the Altar. They 
never forgot how to look, nor how to speak guttural solemnities, 
nor how to maintain professional dignity. They forgot nothing ex- 
cept living truths and living souls. And fifty years of ministration 
without any fruit in true godliness, gave them no pain. It was 
charged to the account of Divine Sovereignty. 

" Whoever hides the truth by embellishment of words ; by a vain 
exhibition of wit or fancy ; by opaque learning ; by the impenetrable 
thickets of nice distinctions ; by stupidity and lifelessness ; by inane 
solemnity and sanctimonious conventionalism, is a desecrator of the 
pulpit and a breaker of the Sabbath-day. Stupidity hides the truth 
just as fatally as levity. Consecrated dulness is no better than flip- 
pant folly. If a window fails to let the light through, it makes little 
difference whether the obscuration comes from the web of a big, lazy 
spider, or from the nimble weavings of a hundred pert little spiders. 

u God's truth really, earnestly, pungently spoken, for a direct and 
practical purpose, with distinct results constantly following, that is 
preaching, no matter what are the particular methods of speech. 
Doubtless some are better than others. But every sincere and truth- 
ful man must use that way by which God has enabled him to achieve 
success ; some by solid statements, some by inexorable reasonings, 
some by illustration and fancy, some by facts and stories — just as 
God has given power to each one. But the test is the same in the 
highest and the lowest. Fruit must follow. The truth of God 
must shine through the human instrument and evince its divinity 
by signs following — the awakening of the conscience, conviction of 
sin, conversion to God, and a life redeemed from selfishness and set 
a-glow with Christian goodness and benevolence. 



180 HENRY WABD BEECHEE. 

" Nothing can more sharply exhibit the miserable imbecility which 
has come upon us, than the inability of men to perceive the differ- 
ence between preaching ' politics,' ' social reform,' &c, and preach- 
ing God's truth in such a way that it shall sit in judgment upon 
these things, and every other deed of men, to try them, to explore 
and analyze them, and to set them forth, as upon the background 
of eternity, in their moral character, and in their relation to man's 
duty and God's requirements. 

" Shall the whole army of human deeds go roaring along the public 
thoroughfares, and Christian men be whelmed in the general rush, 
and no man be found to speak the real moral nature of human con- 
duct ? Is the pulpit too holy, and the Sabbath too sacred, to bring 
individual courses and developments of society to the bar of God's 
Word for trial % Those who think so, and are crying out about the 
desecration of the pulpit with secular themes, are the lineal descend- 
ants of those Jews who thought the Sabbath so sacred that our 
Saviour desecrated it by healing the withered hand. Would to 
God that the Saviour would visit His Church and heal withered 
hearts !" 

It has been our purpose to show why it is that in the case of Mr. 
Beecher " all the people are very attentive to hear him." There is 
no doubt that the remarkable range of his faculties attracts a corre- 
sponding variety of people. Some see the peculiar charm in his 
poetry, some in his pathos, some in his word-painting, some in his 
dissections of character, some in his illustrations from nature, some 
in his sharp sayings, some in his disrespect for forms and theological 
systems, some in his heroism, some in his views of God and Christ, 
and some in his delivery; but all, all who like Mr. Beecher, are 
drawn to him by the universal recognition of his humanity and his 
honesty. He loves his fellow-man, and he preaches himself. As 
Emerson truly says, " He that writes to himself writes to an eternal 
public. We see it advertised that Mr. Grand will deliver an oration 
on the Fourth of July, and Mr. Hand before the Mechanics' Associa- 
tion, and we do not go thither, because we know that these gentle- 
men will not communicate their own character and experience to 



"what is truth?" 181 

the company. If we bad reason to expect such a confidence, we 
should go through all inconvenience and opposition. The sick 
would be carried on litters. But a public oration is an escapade, a 
non-committal, an apology, a gag, and not a communication, not a 
speech, not a man." But Mr. Beecher does confide his own charac- 
ter and experience, and this confidence is the confidence of love. It 
is this which gives the peculiar charm of encouragement to his 
preaching. One hears him, and grows stronger and happier. It is 
good for all of us to have life interpreted. It is good to have heart- 
experiences, however deep, sounded with as profound appreciation. 
The poor come discouraged, and go away invigorated ; the tempted 
come reckless, and go away penitent ; the bereaved come weeping, 
and go away hoping ; the darkened are illuminated ; and the stranded 
float off into abundant waters. It is the truth which he preaches, 
the truth as it is in Jesus. Most ministers preach the truth, but 
with some is it not truth once full of juice and fresh with beauty, 
but now sere in its fulfilled mission, and only held trembling to the 
bud of a new growth, by the dried adhesion of last year's sap ? 
With others is it not desert truth of drifting sands, with only here 
and there an oasis ? or is it not unproductive truth, like lands 
exhausted by unrighteous cultivation ? Does it meet the vital 
necessities of the living, acting men and women of this living, 
present nineteenth century? Is it truth which Paul would have 
preached if born eighteen hundred years later ? It is living truth, 
which, we confidently believe, men yearn for ; some only fitfully, 
some unceasingly. There are but few, stupidly quiescent in past 
attainment. Some grope after it, with blind outstr etchings, amidst 
tame revelations and fantastic table-movings ; some among the 
writings of the Fathers and the rubbish of the past ; some seek it by 
self-imposed penances or tedious mummeries ; some, skeptically 
trampling on all the past, search for it in nature, from " star dust," 
and primary cells ; some think it embraced in telegraphs and steam, 
or whatever promotes the Physical and accumulates wealth ; but all 
the world ask Pilate's old question, "What is truth?" ignorant that 
He stands ever before them who is " the way, the truth, and the life." 
That preacher collects the people, who preaches the truth of to-day 



182 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

applied to the wants of to-day, to the temptations of to-day, to the 
errors of to-day, and to the individual necessities and environments 
and duties of those who, at this present, are working out the 
Problem of Life ; and who preaches it simply and naturally, not 
swathed in formulas, not inwoven with technicalities, but presented 
in the garb of every-day life, illustrated by familiar experiences, 
unstilted and unassuming, so that our eyes see it and our hands 
handle it. That Mr. Beecher's attraction consists much in discern- 
ment, in mental elasticity, soul-strength, acute observation, apt illus- 
tration, and power of diction, we do not propose to deny ; but it is 
because he uses these gifts in presenting simple Christian truth that 
he holds his unequalled sway and is the People's Preacher.* 



SELECTIONS. 



We append some sentences reported from Mr. Beecher's Extem- 
pore. No one can fail to be impressed with the genius which can 
profusely scatter, Sunday after Sunday, such felicitous expressions. 

From a Prayer. 

Our Father ! all other relationships are swallowed up in Thee. Thou 
art all that are distributed, and more. Thou art the exhaustless foun- 
tain of love. 

Our Father ! Thou knowest that through the week we go down into 
the valleys of care and shadow. Grant that our Sabbaths may be 
hills of light and joy in Thy presence ; and so, as Time rolls by, may we 
go on from mountain-top to mountain-top, till at last we catch the 
glory of the gate, and enter in, to go no more out forever. 

"What cares the child, when the mother rocks it, though all storms 
beat without ? So we, if Thou dost shield and tend us, shall be mind- 
less of the tempests and blasts of life, blow they never so rudely. 

* In the preceding presentation of Mr. Beecher's various views, it should be 
understood, in justice to him, that all quotations of his language are specified 
by quotation marks, or by foot-notes pointing out Abstracts of Sermons, in 
which the wording is Mr. Beecher's, to the extent which an Abstract will allow. 




SELECTIONS. 183 



Feom a Sermon. 

God pardons like a mother, who kisses the offence into everlasting 
forgetfulness. 

In our own strength we can do nothing. "Who is there that is not 
tired of climbing up the black face of the cliff of Resolution, to fall 
back again, day after day, upon the shore ? 

There are multitudes of men like the summer vines, that never grow 
even ligneous, but stretch out a thousand little hands to grasp the 
stronger shrubs ; and if they cannot reach them, lie there dishevelled in 
the grass, hoof-trodden and beaten of every storm. 

Humor is a golden bounty of atmosphere in us, which we are 
not to use for our own warming, but for the wide cheer and up- 
lifting of all. 

A helping word to one in trouble is often like a switch on a rail- 
road track — but one inch between wreck and ruin, and smooth, on- 
rolling prosperity. 

Do the best you can where you are, and when that is exhausted, 
God will open a door for you, and a voice will call, " Come up hither 
into a higher sphere." 

"When Christ went away, it was to larger capabilities and loves for 
us, even as a bud bursts its cerements and expands into the full blos- 
som of beauty and perfume. 

As a rose after a shower, bent down by tear-drops, waits for a 
passing breeze or a kindly hand to shake its branches, that, lightened, 
it may stand once more upon its stem, so one who is bowed down with 
affliction longs for a friend to lift him out of his sorrow, and bid him 
once more rejoice. Happy is the man who has that in his soul which 
acts upon the dejected like April airs upon violet roots. 

God does not send graces as he sends light and rain. They are 
wrought in us through long days of discipline and growth. 

"When God means to make a man strong and useful in his day and 
generation, He generally puts him into the forge and on to the anvil. 



184 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 



Feom a Peayee. 

There is no soil on earth deep enough for the heart's roots — there is 
no earthly air in which it can blossom with all its heavenly fragrance. 

To be weighed down with a sense of our own incompleteness — to 
long for that which we have not, and cannot gain — this it is to be on 
earth. Do Thou grant that these very yearnings may be winds which 
shall fill the sails that waft us homeward to Thee. 

"We are glad that there is a bosom of God to which we can go and 
find refuge. As prisoners in castles look out of their grated windows 
at the smiling landscape, where the sun comes and goes, so we from 
this life, as from dungeon bars, look forth to the Heavenly land, and 
are refreshed with sweet visions of the home that shall be ours when 
we are free. 



Feom a Seemon. 

No man can go down into the dungeon of his own experience, and 
hold the torch of God's word to all its dark chambers, and hidden cavi- 
ties, and slimy recesses, and not come up with a shudder and a chill, 
and an earnest cry to God for divine mercy and cleansing. 

The man who carries a lantern in a dark night, can have friends all 
around him walking safely by the help of its rays, and he be not de- 
frauded. So he who has the God-given light of Hope in his breast, 
can help on many others in this world's darkness, not to his own loss, 
but to his precious gain. 

"Would that I could break this Gospel as a bread of life to all of you ! 
My best presentations of it to you are so incomplete ! Sometimes, when 
I am alone, I have such sweet and rapturous visions of the love of 
God and the truths of His word, that I think if I could speak to you 
then, I should move your hearts. I am like a child, who, walking 
forth some sunny summer's morning, sees grass and flowers all shining 
with drops of dew, that reflect every hue of the rainbow. "Oh!" he 
cries, "I'll carry these beautiful things to my mother," and eagerly 
shakes them off into his little palm. But the charm is gone— they 
are no more water-pearls. 



SELECTIONS. 1S5 



From a Sermon. 
The change from a burning desert, treeless, springless, and drear, to 
green fields and blooming orchards in June, is slight in comparison 
■with that from the desert of this world's affection to the garden of 
God, where there is perpetual, tropical luxuriance of blessed Love. 

A man's conscience should go ever with him like an atmosphere of 
life. Many men carry their consciences like a drawn sword, cutting 
this way and that in the world, but sheathe it and keep it very soft 
and quiet when it is turned within. 

The golden light of conscience should shine in every chamber of 
the soul. 

Go to God whenever you have done wrong. God never says, with 
a scowl, " Here comes that limping sinner again." The path of the 
sinner back to God is brighter and brighter every step he takes, up to 
the smile of the face and the touch of the hand, and that — is salvation. 

The life of Christ should be before us as an example, and in us 
as a fruit. 

From Kemarks. 

You never can have congregational singing, if that is all you have. 
Unless you have singing in the family — singing in the house, and sing- 
ing in the shop, and singing in the street — singing everywhere, until it 
becomes a habit, you never can have congregational singing. It will 
be like the cold drops, half water, half ice, which drip in March from 
some cleft of a rock, one drop here, and one drop there ; whereas it 
should be like the August shower, which comes, ten million drops 
at once, and roars upon the roof. 



From a Prater. 

. 

And when we come to that golden gate which men have made black, 
but which Thou hast set with all glowing stones which are precious in 
heaven : do Thou, who art our salvation, stretch forth Thine hands to 
receive us, and lead us up the unknown way to the land where we shall 
dwell evermore with Thee. 



186 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

O Lord! be thou with us when we go over into the promised 
land of our own hearts. Thou knowest that the enemy are encamped 
there, and that it is through much tribulation that we can vanquish 
them and take possession. 

Grant that we may learn, in whatever station we are, therewith to 
be content. Not that we may not have aspirations, but that we may 
be content to brood upon our nests, until the time for flying shall 
come. 

Fkom a Sermon. 

Slavery is a state of suppressed war. 

The test of a good institution is, that it digs its own grave. 

To see the meanest creature abused, who is made in the image of 
God, makes my heart volcanic. 

The sun does not shine for a few trees and flowers, but for the wide 
world's joy. The lonely pine upon the mountain-top waves its sombre 
boughs and cries, " Thou art my sun." And the little meadow violet 
lifts its cup of blue, and whispers with its perfumed breath, " Thou art 
my sun." And the grain in a thousand fields rustles in the wind, and 
makes answer, " Thou art my sun." And so God sits effulgent in 
heaven, not for a favored few, but for the universe of life ; and there is 
no creature so poor or so low that he may not look up with child-like 
confidence and say, " My Father ! Thou art mine." 

The firm skull must conform to the growth of the brain, the softest 
mass in the whole body. So laws and institutions, however hard they 
may seem, must yield and fashion themselves according to the expansion 
and growth of the national character. 



From a Sermon on Col. iii. 24. 

The Bible rarely pronounces either for or against such relations (as 
in the previous verses). It gives us the principles on which we should 
act in them. It simply instructs us what our spirit should be as long 
as we are in them. 

The real and everlasting sources of motives are from God himself. 



SELECTIONS. 187 

He that only acts from the apparent reasons of rectitude, acts from 
very slender ones. 

Because one man throws an ugly shadow across your path, you have 
no right to distort yourself, and throw one across his. 

When Christianity is fruitful of speculation and barren of good con- 
duct, infidels always abound. 

"We must carry such a fervor into our affairs, that our souls shall 
make all things beautiful. 

God tells us to do our duties for His sake. The duties are not much, 
but the " For my sake," makes them great as mountains. 

The worse the place, if a man meets it with Christian heroism, the 
more glorious is it. 

The strokes of duty ring in heaven. 

What you lack in outward circumstance, make up in inward excel- 
lence, and thus equalize it. 

Though the Bible teaches what Christian graces are, it is the world 
which produces them. A book of tactics is good to teach the soldier 
evolutions, but it is the parade-ground and the battle-field which makes 
veterans. 

God does not put us to school here to ministers, nor to the Bible, but 
life itself is God's teacher. You will go to your stores and your busi- 
ness to-morrow, and some event, some experience, will preach to you 
of some Christian grace. You may not understand it, but it is the 
voice of God speaking to you, and if you do not understand it, I am 
sorry for you. 

A grindstone that had no grit in it, how long would it take it to 
make an axe sharp ? And affairs that had no pinch in them, how long 
would they take to make a man? 

How can men have faith, unless they are compelled to go where they 
cannot see ? 

When God makes saints, He makes them out of something else than 
sentimental aspirations. 



188 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

The saints who are most eminent in this life, I think are saints who 
are not heard from. 

There are many persons who are martyrs that never were burnt at 
the stake. 

Have you ever seen a cactus growing? "What a dry, ugly, spiny 
thing it is ! But suppose your gardener takes it when just sprouting 
forth with buds, and lets it stand a week or two, and then brings it to 
you, and lo ! it is a blaze of light, glorious above all flowers. So the 
poor and lowly, when God's time comes, and they begin to stand up and 
blossom, how beautiful they will be ! 

Daily duties are a part of a man's religious life, as much as his de- 
votions are. 

The world was made such as it is, that you might be made what you 
ought to be. 

Oh ! how sacred is life when every act is an altar from which the 
heart sends up its incense unto God. 

May every thing which calls you to do and to bear, though it is called 
by the ugly name of trial, so stand, that, by your faith touching it, you 
shall see Christ standing there, and saying, " Do it for my sake — Bear it 
for my sake." 

Feom a Seemon ox Mat. xiii. 18-23. 
There is nothing which excites more interest among men, than to find 
general truths made to meet the scope of a particular case. 

There is not a single fundamental religious controversy up now-a- 
days. They are all controversies of details — of jointings. 

The great denominations now stand apart from each other on grounds 
which, by their own general confession, do not touch the individual 
Christian character. 

God works by the Church just as far as He can. But the stream of 
His workings overflows, and runs in a hundred ducts besides. 

This great truth of the importance of man, which God is driving 
through our time as with a chariot of fire — when this truth cOmes 
up to the Church, does the Church welcome it ? No. The Church is 



SELECTIONS. 189 

busy dusting the flitches of old truth, that have hung for years in the 
smoke-house of theology. 

We are standing on the eve of a great day — a day multitudinous with 
truths and struggles. 

Doubt is as bad as unbelief; for a fog is as bad as midnight darkness. 

The way to cure infidelity in another is to be a Christian one's self. 



From a Sermon ox Mat. xiii. 23. 

Infidelity is to religion just what all the diseases of famine are to 
health. And real religion cures infidelity without arguments, just as 
food cures famine — weakness without medicine. 

It is said that it makes no difference what a man believes, if he is only 
sincere. But it does make a great difference. If a man mounts a wild 
steed, and makes full speed for a precipice, and means to slip off before 
he gets to it, his very insincerity will save him. But if he says, " I don't 
believe there is any chasm there," his sincerity will bring him to the 
bottom. 

There is no presumptive evil in holding truths in a distinct form of 
ideas, or in systematizing them. I suspect that every man who thinks 
at all, arranges his conclusions ; and when a man has settled what his 
beliefs are, he has a creed. It is not systematizing truth that makes the 
mischief; it is false systematizing. 

The ground to be taken in respect to truth is, that it does make all the 
difference between life and death, between destruction and salvation, 
what a man believes. 

I might almost say that the power of truth to change the life, is an 
unfailing criterion of it ; and that those things which smooth and soften, 
carry in then* very imbecility the proof of their falsity ; and those truths 
which, though they are rugged, yet have grip in them, have in the/n- 
selves presumptive evidence of their truth. 

God is served not by single denominations, but by all Christians of 
all ages. 

You are not to have any toleration which is founded on indifference. 
That truth I would build as high as heaven. 



190 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

"When a man gives proof that his heart is sound, that his life is sound, 
then no divergence of opinion should keep us from fellowship with him. 

I, too, feel sensitive in behalf of theologies ; but when theology puts 
its hoof upon the living, palpitating heart, my heart cries out against it. 

The most powerful way of teaching the truth, is to show to men what 
it does in you. 



Feom a Peayee. 

"We thank Thee for all those budding promises which are yet to burst 
into flower. 

How long shall those blessed promises stand as sentinels upon the bor- 
ders, and not march as armies of the living God ? 

"We grieve that our days are so inharmonious. Our hearts are con- 
tinually going in and out of eclipses. Yesterday jostles to-day, and to- 
morrow will carry them both away captive. 

And as when, in summer, we go forth in the pastures, and there is 
nothing that we may not pluck of flowers, or of fruit, or of beauty ; so, 
in all the richness of Thy royal nature, there is nothing that we may not 
take : all is ours, and we are God's. 

"We rejoice to think that, being heirs of God, we can afford to walk 
without this world's outward estate. 

Since the Forgiver hath come revealed, may we not be unwilling to 
know our sin. 

Bless all those whom we love. Gather them into the charmed circle 
of Thine own heart, and love them into joy and purity. 



Feom ax Evening Leotuee, on Mat. v. 10-12. 
Such a string of pearls, I think, were never put around the neck of 
any favorite, as Christ put around the neck of His disciples, when He 
pronounced the Beatitudes. 

Men like to sun themselves in the faces of their fellow-men ; and the 
best of purposes are sometimes thawed out by the mere sight. 



SELECTIONS. 191 

TTe are not born merely for the purpose of success. We have a much 
nobler end than merely to scramble up a certain height on the golden 
hill. 

The Bible nowhere, I think, provides for the want of common sense. 
That is taken for granted. 

Because our impressions are right, we have not the right to flash 
them, unpreparedly and unadvisedly, in the faces of men. 

The command to "live peaceably with all men," is not a command 
to the fist only : It is a command to the head — to the heart — to the 
knuckles of the understanding. 

"We are never to propel our good purpose by a malign impulsion. 

There are those who think that It is the part of truth to make men 
angry ; and the more men get angry and the more they hiss, the more 
such a man thinks he is doing his work thoroughly, and he rather re- 
joices in it. 

A man who is in the right, knows that he is in the majority ; for 
God is on his side, and God is multitudinous above all populations of 
the earth. 

The wife who, with broken health, and untoward circumstances, and 
overwhelming cares, still struggles on — she is imperfect — take the 
measure of a symmetrical character, and there is not a word to be said. 
But she tries to do right, " faint, yet pursuing," and says, " I shall not 
go back — I will persevere, and that to the end." Now all her strug- 
gles are because she will not turn and go down stream. All those 
troubles that beat upon the bows of her boat as she stems the tide 
are blessings from God, if she only knew it, as they murmur against 
the bows. 

To have one spark of courage in the face of a million dangers, is to 
have more than to have all courage where there is no danger. And so 
those who are put under troubles and have a patient spirit, do they 
not try harder to do right than they ever did before ? And though 
they often fail, yet can they say, " Is not my soul armed for the right, 
although I am borne back by the spears of mine adversaries ?" 

Sometimes a man is brought to a place where on the one side is right, 
and apparent ruin, and on the other prosperity with wrong-doing. A 



192 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

man should pray that he may be delivered from the fork of the road 
where snch temptations are. 

Half onr troubles come from onr morbid way of looking at our privi- 
leges. ~We let our blessings lie till they get mouldy, and then we call 
them curses. 

Eeligion should be to the life like rain, which descends in a million 
little drops, and is not ashamed to sink into the ground, where the 
roots are. The way that the drop of water comes to swing in the leaf, 
as it flaunts in the sun and wind all summer long, is by going down 
into the ground. 

There are days when my blood flows like wine ; when all is ease and 
prosperity ; when the sky is blue, and the birds sing, and flowers blos- 
som, and every thing speaks to me ; and my life is an anthem, walking in 
time and tune ; and then this world's joy and affection suffice. But 
when a change comes — when I am weary and disappointed — when the 
skies lower into the sombre night — when there is no song of bird, and 
the perfume of flowers is but their dying breath breathed away — when 
all is sunsetting and autumn, then I yearn for Him who sits with the 
summer of love in His soul, and know that all earthly affection is but a 
glow-worm light compared to that which blazes with such effulgence in 
the heart of God. 

Eeligion — it is the bread of life. I wish that we appreciated more 
livingly the force of such expressions. TThy! I remember, when I was 
a boy, I could not wait till I was dressed in the morning, but ran and 
cut a slice from the loaf, and all round the loaf, too, in order to keep 
me till breakfast — and at breakfast — if diligence earned wages, I should 
have been well paid — and then I could not wait till dinner, but had to 
eat again, and again before tea, and then at tea, and lucky if I did not 
eat again after that. It was bread, bread, all the time, which I ate, 
and lived on, and got strength from. And so religion is the bread of 
life. You make it the cake. You put it away in your cupboards, and 
you never have it but when you have company, and then you cut it 
up into little pieces and pass it round on your best plates, instead of 
treating it as bread, to be used every day and every hour. 



SELECTIONS. 193 

From a Sermon on Rom. v. 15, and Eph. ii. 8. 
Love without conscience is always weak. 

When we say that all ranks and conditions of men are dear to God, 
we say just what every parent's heart knows, without being able to 
explain. When danger conies, the mother's heart would not seek for 
the strongest. The one whom she would seize first to rush out with 
would be the weakest. And how came we to feel so ? That nature is 
put into us that it may be a perpetual testimony to us of God's love 
for us. 

How little men know how to travel towards heaven ! It is as if 
God should send us a carriage well hung on springs, well lined with 
soft cushions, and should tell us to get in and ride, and we should take 
all our baggage on our backs and walk along just behind it. So men 
live. There is the carriage of God's providence right before them, and 
there they go — trudge — trudge — trudge — to heaven. Poor miserable 
blind slaves that they are ! 

It is time that we were done talking of Death as "the great tyrant," 
u the enemy," &c. Death ! — it is nothing but the permission to the 
child to come home — it is joy broke out — it is the heart budding and 
blossoming for eternity ; and it is time that we saw through it, and 
ceased to talk of it by its outside. 

I think that in the life to come my heart will have feelings like 
God's. The little bell that a babe can hold in its fingers may strike the 
same note as the great bell of Moscow. Its note may be soft as a 
bird's whisper, and yet it is the same. And so God may have a feel- 
ing, and I, standing by Him, shall have the same feeling. Where He 
loves, I shall love. All the processes of the Divine mind will be re- 
flected in mine. And there will be this companionship with him to 
eternity. What else can be the meaning of those expressions that all 
that we have is Christ's, and God is ours, and we are heirs of God ? 
To inherit God — who can conceive of it ? It is the growing marvel, 
and will be the growing wonder of eternity. 

Feom a Sermon. 
Man was made to be a centre of forces, and his life is to consist in 
acquiring power, and then using it outwardly upon others. And it is 

13 



194 

one of the worst effects of prosperity, when it makes man a vortex in- 
stead of a fountain, so that, instead of throwing out, he only draws in. 

I think it is a sad sight to look at one of the receiving hulks at the 
Navy Yard. To think that that was the ship which once went so fear- 
lessly across the ocean ! It has come back to be anchored in the quiet 
bay, and to roll this way and that with the tide. Yet that is what many 
men set before them as the end of life — that they may come to that pass 
where they may be able to cast out an anchor this way and an anchor that 
way, and never move again, but to rock lazily with the tide — without 
a sail — without a voyage — waiting simply for decay to take their tim- 
bers apart. And this is what men call " retiring from business "—to 
become simply an empty old hulk. 

• No man can tell whether he is rich or poor by turning to his ledger. 
It is the heart that makes the man rich. He is rich or poor according 
to what he is, not according to what he has heaped up about him. 

Never forget what any man has said to you when he was angry. 
Anger is a bow that will send an arrow sometimes where another feel- 
ing will not ; and if an angry man has charged you with any thing, you 
had better look it up. 

If you want to know whether you are a Christian, don't look to see 
whether you ever fail. Ask yourself what is your purpose — which way 
is your face — which way is your heart. The helmsman of a ship never 
keeps his helm in one place, because as the ship comes up to the true 
line of her direction, she always goes a little beyond it, and must be 
brought back. The straight line of her course is made up of a thousand 
zigzags. And that is the difference between you as a wicked man and 
as a Christian. The wicked man switches off and goes on another road ; 
but the Christian goes zigzagging to Heaven. 

Every one must come to Christ and say, " If you will not take me 
with all my failings, I cannot be saved!" And why does God forgive 
us? For the same reason that the mother forgives her child — be- 
cause she loves it. Just as the sun shines on decaying flowers and 
shrivelled fruit, because it is his nature — the sun, which never asks a 
question, but says, "If any thing wants to be shined on, let it hold 
itself up." And so God says, " I will forgive you, for your repeated 
transgressions." Do you ask what becomes of them ? What becomes 



SELECTIONS. 195 

of the hasty words you spoke yesterday to her you love ? "I don't 
know where they are," says the wife. " I am sure I do not," says the 
husband. They are gone. They are sunk to the bottom of her heart. 
No ! not to the bottom, for there she keeps her love. There is only one 
thing that can be annihilated, and that is wrong-doing to one who 
loves you. 

From: a Sermon on Ps. cxvl 7. 
The face of man is a disturbed face. Rest is not with men even at 
home. It is not with them in the broodings of the night — it comes 
not with the morning's flush. 

As men live, the gratification of one part of the mind is at the ex- 
pense of another. Our hours are forever quarrelling with each other. 
The resolutions and desires of to-day — poor tilings ! — to-morrow will 
hunt them out of your shops and stores. 

That narrow and intense moment of the pressure of temptation. 

Men are like birds that build their nests in trees that hang over rivers. 
And the bird sings in the tree-top, and the river sings underneath, un- 
dermining and undermining, and in the moment when the bird thinks 
not, it comes crashing down, and the nest is scattered, and all goes 
floating down the flood. 

If we build to ambition, we are like men who build as before the track 
of a volcano's eruption, sure to be overtaken and burnt up by its hot 
lava. 

If we build to wealth, we are as those who build upon the ice. The 
spring will melt our foundations from under us. 

Shall we build to earthly affections ? If we cannot transfigure those 
whom we love — if we cannot behold the eternal world shining through 
the faces of father and mother, of husband and wife — if we cannot be- 
hold them all irradiated with the glory of the supernal sphere, it were 
not best to build for love. Death erects his batteries right over against 
our homes, and in the hour when we think not, the missile flies and ex- 
plodes, carrying destruction all around. 

Of all impotent creatures, man is the weakest when he tries to con- 
quer and put down himself. It is as when old ocean tries to put down 
waves with waves; there are no storms such as those which rise when 
man attempts to conquer his passions. 



196 HENKY WARD BEECHEK. 

All men know that they are to live again. But it is another thing to 
have that blessed truth wafted from heaven, so that it is to us a new 
truth which no man has ever known before. 

There are those in this congregation, I know, who see Heaven more 
plainly than they do earth, if by plainly, we mean effectively. 

We are beleaguered by Time, and parallel after parallel is drawn 
around us, and then a charge is made, and we see the enemy's flag wav- 
ing on some outwork. And as the sense of hearing, and touch, and 
sight fails, and a man finds all these marks of time upon him, oh woe ! 
if he has no Hereafter, as a final Citadel into which to retreat. 

Over against every trial I see Christ standing, and I hear Him saying 
ever with the same voice, which is deep as eternity, " Come unto me, 
and I will give you rest." 

A select church is a dead church. A church's power consists in its 
cutting the loaf of society from the top to the bottom. 

I think the human heart is like an artist's studio. You can tell what 
the artist is doing, not so much by his completed pictures, for these are 
mostly scattered at once, but by the half-finished sketches and designs 
which are hanging on his wall. And so you can tell the course of a 
man's life, not so much by his well-defined purposes, as by the half-formed 
plans — the faint day-dreams, which are hung in all the chambers of 
his heart. 



CHARACTER AND EXPERIENCES. 197 



CHARACTER AND EXPERIENCES. 



This presentation of Mr. Beecher's views and style not only shedf 
light upon the sources of his attraction as a preacher, but illustrate? 
his originality, independence, and mission, the three things which 
individualize him. His mind pre-eminently works from its own start- 
ing-point, and in its own way. It is essentially creative, and it i;- 
singularly free. Before grappling a subject, it strips it from all tin 
accumulated surroundings of past discussion. It builds on no other 
man's foundation. It inherits the characteristics of Dr. Lyman 
Beecher's mind ; and very descriptive is the Boston division of the 
human race into the " Good, the Bad, and the Beechers." 

Of a man's mission it is as well not to speak till the work is done. 
Every man has one, though in only a few are the world interested. 
It is not unlikely that the next generation may speak of Mr. Beecher 
with more of profound and universal interest ; and the Church may, 
perhaps, regard him with ever-living gratitude. That he is doing a 
great work of some kind, no one doubts; that he is influencing 
Humanity more than any other living preacher, no one need to doubt ; 
that both his influence and his actual strength are constantly grow- 
ing, is manifest Look for a moment at the facts. Consider first 
his regular congregation, the largest in the country, so eager in 
attendance that the annual sale of pews yields $12,000, and proba- 
bly twice as many might be rented. See, secondly, his audience of 
from two to three thousand, ever attentive, and even absorbed. 
Note, thirdly, the church, consisting of nearly eight hundred mem- 
bers, to which additions are made at every communion, — a vigorous, 
effective, and devoted church, giving practical expression to his 
views. Mark, fourthly, the boat-loads every Sunday morning and 
evening from New York, made .up of occasional hearers from other 
congregations, and from the country ; for most visitants to New i ork 
from east, north, and west, hear him. A New York merchant, 
whose trade covers the West, states, that a majority of his customers 
speak at his store of attending Mr. Beecher's church as a part of 
the trip East. " To hear Beecher" is down on the memorandum. 
Note, fifthly, that he publishes a weekly " Star" article in the " Inde- 



193 HENEY WAED BEECHEE. 

pendent," with its hundred thousand readers, ninety thousand of 
whom turn to his illumination first ; and now and then some pub- 
lisher issues a book of his, which advertises its — th edition before 
some journals are awake to its first appearance. 

Besides this, sixthly, he speaks at the public dinner, and from the 
platform, and is reported in the papers. Everybody knows of him. 
One from New York cannot go to any part of the North or "West, 
even among remote villages and quiet farm-houses, without being cat- 
echised about Henry "Ward Beecher. There is no good public man 
whose name is so often in men's mouths, and but few wicked ones. 

A resident of the South tells us that New Orleans discusses him 
equally with New York ; and there also rally defenders, as well as 
assailers. It is manifest that the more he is known the stronger is 
his hold on the public heart ; and prejudices melt before his actual 
presence and living voice. As illustrative, we knew a party of four 
Southern gentlemen stopping last year at the St. Nicholas, New 
York, one of whom was induced to hear him preach. He went 
with Southern abhorrence, and returned with Northern enthusiasm. 
He persuaded his three friends to go on the next Sabbath, and the 
effect was such that they altered their plan of travel, stayed over 
another week, and, finally, would not leave without an introduction, at 
which Southern frankness vied in expression with Southern heartiness. 

We know of a clergyman who lately came to hear him for the 
first time. He was for many years a pastor in Eastern Connecticut, 
is now over seventy years of age, and has always been a zealous 
advocate for revivals. Indeed, he was associated with Nettleton, and 
has labored much and effectively in Connecticut as an evangelist at 
protracted meetings. He is one of those whose faith in the progress 
of Christianity centres in revivals, and who regards revivals as the 
definite and sole end of all religious effort. He had been much 
exercised about Mr. Beecher, lest his preaching was below the 
Gospel standard, and his influence not conducive to evangelical 
doctrines. 

In his solicitude he came to hear him. Entering the church, not 
before the usual hour, he found it filled to overflowing, and with 
difficulty secured a place in the aisle. As the discourse proceeded 




LECTUKES. 190 

he became intensely interested, and finally gave manifest expression 
to his emotions. After service he met one of the members of the 
church, a friend of former days, and said in the deliberative style of 
age, "I came to hear your minister." "Well, how do you like 
him ?" With distinctive emphasis he replied, " He is a godly man. 
Don't you have a revival here all the time ?" 

He lectures, also, about eighty times a year in various parts of the 
country. Then the region round about awakes, and every road 
pours in its tribute to the overflowing audience. All associations 
want him. He is overborne by lecture-invitations. Last winter he 
received five hundred letters on this point alone, and had to employ 
an assistant to read and answer. As there are few preachers who 
exchange so seldom, and who so rarely fail to give the weekly reli- 
gious lecture, it follows that most of these must be declined. When 
he began to lecture it was not in harmony with his feelings to fix a 
price ; and it was only after two years of argument by his friends, 
and when a fixed price, and that a high one, was necessary for per- 
sonal protection, that he consented to it. 

He said, " I do not wish to charge fifty or a hundred dollars for 
speaking one evening : it is not worth it." Indeed, so burdensome 
had come to be this matter of making arrangements to satisfy Lec- 
ture Committees, that last spring the proposal was made by three 
prominent men of his congregation to take upon themselves the 
labor and responsibility of arranging where and when he should 
speak, and of making all the bargains with Associations. His much 
lecturing is criticised, and there is reason to question whether it is 
best for a pastor to employ time and thought in this way. But if 
any one ought, Mr. Beecher is the one, because his resources enable 
him to do the work of lecturing and preaching, and to do both well. 
But to those who object on the ground that a minister ought not to 
earn money, we are free to say that we, on the contrary, like to see 
good men earn and have money, — they make such good use of it — 
they scatter it so among the aspiring and the homeless and the out- 
cast of this world. Take Mr. Beecher for an example. His benevo- 
lences are without stint. A few Sabbaths ago, for a struggling church 
in Williamsburg, he preached a sermon which cost his Congrega- 






200 HEXRY WARD BEECHEK. 

tion §2000 and himself $100, and the church was saved. The only 
difference between paying such a man one hundred or two hundred 
dollars a night is, that in one case the poor have twice as much as 
they otherwise would. 

Lastly, Mr. Beecher, besides his preaching, lecturing, and writing, 
has come prominently before the people on three occasions : in his 
famous extinguishment of John Mitchel ; in his publication and 
defence of " the Plymouth Collection of Hymns," which has stirred 
the religious community; and in his anti-slavery speech of 1855, 
which commanded the respect of the best minds of the country, for 
its fair, sound, and thorough discussion of the prevailing controversy 
between the Xorth and the South. "We heard a distinguished citizen 
of New England speak of it with surprise, as evidencing such depth 
and breadth of thought. " It is not only original and keen as we 
should expect, but it is truly philosophical. It has the profound 
analysis of Carlyle, with far greater felicity of expression." 

Most people concede that he has lively perceptions of truth, pic- 
turesqueness of language, heroism of utterance, and brilliancy of 
imagination ; but, with this single exception, he has not demon- 
strated, outside of his pulpit, his power of broad generalizations and 
philosophical insight. T\~e hope he will yet do it, and in the form 
which outlives speech. 

But though a profound thinker, he is not technically a profound 
scholar. He is little versed in the lore of the schools. He is not 
conversant with other men's thoughts. He is guileless of Hebrew, 
and in exposition of Scripture rarely deviates from King James's 
translation. He deals little in exegesis, and little in the comparison 
and grouping of texts, though this remark would have been more 
true a year ago, and will be less true a year hence. 

Not only in Mr. Beecher's public discourse, is his growing power 
shown, but in sundry efforts to " put him down," prompted either 
by misapprehension of his views, by denominational rivalry, or by 
political persecution. It is superfluous now to particularize these, as 
they have all ended in the after-regret of some, and the discomfiture 
of all engaged ; while to his friends they have proved a source of 
exhilaration. It is generally conceded by his opponents that it is 



GENEALOGY. 201 

unwise to rouse him. Yet a letter from a distinguished gentleman 
at the East expresses the sentiment of many : " You have doubtless 

read Beecher's annihilation of . Is it not capital ? 

I like the way he has when he gets into a row. He pitches in so 
lustilv. But, after all, he seems to me to have rather an Irishman's 
love of the shillaleh. And though he always comes out ' first-best,' 
vet as I see him now, with hat jammed down over his eyes, red and 
dusty, I must confess he does not look to me altogether clerieal. , ' 

"With such power and such experiences it is not strange that Mr. 
Beecher knows his strength, as every strong man does ; but he also 
knows his weaknesses, as every strong man does not. Those judge 
unjustly who call him conceited. Conceit lies either in thinking too 
highly of self, or in giving undue thought to self. Mr. Beecher doe> 
neither. He has the two accompaniments of greatness — self-respect, 
with self-abnegatiou. It is beautiful to note how much consideration 
he has of himself, and how little for himself: Self is not his life-aim, 
but the Gospel of truth. To this he is consecrated. The greatness 
of the work has absorbed all the minutiae of self-promotion. In this 
he lives, for this he is ready to die. The idea of his saying, after 
one of his sermons, " Did I not speak well ?" is absurd, but rather — 
" God forbid that I should glory save in the cross of our Lord Jesus 
Christ." And this ignoring. of self grows as the years go by. "Mor- 
tality" is more and more " swallowed up of life." 

The American Phrenological Journal has published the following, 
which is authentic : 

" Dr. Lyman Beecher was born at New Haven, Connecticut, Octo- 
ber 12th, IT 75. All his ancestors were devout and professedly re- 
ligious men. His great-great-grandfather, John Beecher, was born 
in Kent county, England, and came to New Haven. His great- 
grandmother was the daughter of a full-blooded Welsh woman, a 
^Roberts. Thus the blood of the Beechers received a happy mixture 
of "Welsh blood, with its poetry and music, and its insatiable and 
intolerable love of genealogy; for no Welshman ever lived who 
had not a clear genealogical turnpike opened up to Adam's very 
front door-yard. The Beecher blood was dashed with hypochon- 
dria. Dr. Beecher himself, his father, and his grandfather, were, in 



202 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

early life, great sufferers from that cause ; but in each case it wore 
out with years, leaving a serene and cheerful old age. Dr. Beecher's 
own mother was a Lyman, whose blood was made of champagne, 
joyous, sparkling, hopeful, and against all rebuff and disappointment 
hoping still. * * * Henry "Ward Beecher is remarkable for 
the soundness and vigor of his physical constitution. Every bodily 
organ is strong, and exceedingly active. His vital organs are large, 
and peculiarly healthy. Only his stomach is in the least degree 
affected, and that only partially, and occasionally. His lungs are 
very large, and very fine. He measures under the arms more than 
one in thousands ; and his muscles are uncommonly dense, sprightly, 
and vigorous. All his motions are quick and elastic, yet peculiarly 
firm and strong, tossing his body about as if it were as light as a 
foot-ball — a condition characteristic of distinguished men. He fos- 
ters this condition by taking a great amount of physical exercise, 
and also of rest and recreation. "When he does work, he works with 
his whole might, until his energies are nearly expended, and then 
gives himself up to sleep, relaxation, and cheerful conversation, per- 
haps for days together, until, having again filled up the reservoir of 
life-power, he becomes capable of putting forth another vigorous ef- 
fort. Mention is made of this fact to call attention to the importance 
of keeping up a full supply of animal energy. Many men fail just 
as they are becoming distinguished because of premature exhaus- 
tion; whereas, a little husbanding of their strength would have 
saved them. One of Beecher's cardinal doctrines and practices is to 
keep his body in first-rate working order, just as a good workman 
keeps his tools well sharpened. The second cardinal point in his 
character is the unwonted size of his Benevolence. It is the great 
phrenological centre of his brain, and towers above every other 
organ in his head. While most heads rise higher at Firmness than 
at Benevolence, his rises higher at Benevolence. It is really enor- 
mous. Acquisitiveness is almost entirely wanting. He never thinks 
whether this or that sermon or doctrine will increase or diminish his 
salary, but simply asks whether it is true. In his first sermon to his 
present congregation, he told them that they might expect to hear 
the truth, and the whole truth ; that if he thereby curtailed his 



BIOGRAPHY. 203 

salary, curtailed it must be ; that lie had lived on bread and water, 
and could do so again ; and that all he needed was a bare living, 
and that he could procure without temporizing. His Firmness is 
extraordinary. Veneration, though inferior to Benevolence and Firm- 
ness, is large, and considerably larger than it was two years ago, 
while Marvellousness is comparatively wanting. Hope is unbounded. 
Comparison is the master-element of his mind. Language is the 
second largest intellectual organ. His elocution is peculiarly free 
and flowing. Xo one can be at a loss to know exactly what he 
means, as he has the rare faculty of transferring the full power of 
his thoughts and feelings into the minds of his hearers and readers. 
His descriptive po^ ers are rarely equalled, and greatly aided by Im- 
itation and large Ideality, as he is a great mimic. If any living man 
may properly be called a child of nature, aud pre-eminently true to 
that nature, it is n. \Y. Beecher. Few men are less perverted, or 
more true to their instincts. In this, more than in any thing else, 
resides his Samson strength. It gives him simplicity, and, at the 
same time, strength unequalled by those whose capabilities are much 
greater." 

Mr. Beecher was born in Litchfield, Connecticut, June 24th, 1813. 
He was graduated- at Amherst College in 1834. He studied theol- 
ogy at Lane Seminary, Cincinnati, which was under the direction of 
his father. He was first settled as a Presbyterian minister at Law- 
renceburg, Dearborn county, Indiana, in 1837, where he remained 
two years. From thence he removed to Indianapolis, the capital of 
the State. There he remained till accepting the unanimous call of 
a new Congregational society, in Brooklyn, New York. He was in- 
stalled pastor of the church in October, 1847. His salary at first 
was $1,500, pledged by three persons, when the church enterprise 
was an experiment. It is now 84,000, having been gradually ad- 
vanced without his request. He is now forty-two years of age, and 
possessed of great physical energy and vitality. He is of medium 
height, muscular physique, and florid complexion, quick in his move- 
ments, and vigorous in his habits. The original formation of his 
face is sensuous. He would have been, if not spiritually devel- 
oped, a hearty, yeomanly-looking man. His face now is indicative 



20i BESfiY WASD BEECHER. 

of developed soul-power. Humor plays about the mouth ; expres- 
sion flows from the large, full, and swimming blue eye, and intellect 
is stamped upon the expansive face, and swelling brow and temples. 
His manners are cordial, frank, unstudied and youthful, which im- 
pel people, though strangers, to shake hands with him. His voice 
is compact, of not wide range, only fair in gentle inflections, but 
gifted in strength of tone. It never fails to be heard throughout 
the largest house, and jet is not usually loud, and seldom makes 
the hearer unpleasantly conscious of its power. He reads well, re- 
markably well ; but not so much from superiority of voice, as from 
exquisite appreciation and rare naturalness. Hence his reading is free 
from tone^and his touch of inflection and emphasis is of the nicest. 
Both voice and face have at times a loving and beautiful ex- 
pression. 

Mr. Beecher is one of a family of thirteen children, ten of whom 
are living. His mother, Roxana Foote, of Guilford, Connecticut, who 
died when he was three years old, was one of those endowed wo- 
men, who, not favored with what some esteem the essential advan- 
tages of town culture and range of libraries, was gifted, direct from 
the abundant bounty of Nature, with the refined tastes, exquisite 
appreciations, acute intellect, and lofty aspirings which finished edu- 
cation in Literature and Art claims as its exclusive prerogative. She 
was a natural painter, and not unsuccessful in the practice of the 
art. Nature was ever an open book, from which she read with ir- 
repressible delight, and flowers were among her beautiful loves. 
She was a woman of superior expression of face and of com- 
manding presence, and of a manner uniting gentleness with dignity, 
which invested her with a serene attractiveness ; and she inspired an 
affection which drew nigh to adoration. Her piety was a profound 
experience, and her spiritual capacities were of that receptive fulness 
which characterize persons like Madame Guyon, giving intensity to 
her appreciation of all spiritual truths. Mr. Beecher inherits from his 
father his ruggedness of strength, but to his mother is he indebted 
for the poetry, taste, perception of the Beautiful, and sympathetic 
tenderness which are his gifts. 

The other members of the family are. Miss Catharine E. Beecher, 



PR. Campbell's description. 205 

distinguished as an authoress ; Rev. William H. Beecher, of Red- 
ding, Massachusetts ; Edward Beecher, D. D., now settled at Gales- 
burgh, Illinois, author of the " Conflict of Ages ;" Mrs. Mary F. 
Perkins, wife of Thomas C. Perkins, of Hartford, one of the first 
lawyers of Connecticut ; Rev. George Beecher, who was killed by 
the accidental discharge of a gun at Chillicothe, Ohio, in 1840 ; 
Mrs. Harriet E. Stowe, wife of Professor Stowe, of Andover Theo- 
logical Seminary, and authoress of " Uncle Tom's Cabin ;" Henry 
Ward, and Rev. Charles Beecher. 

Dr. Beecher has had four children by his second wife, Harriet 
Porter, of Portland, Maine ; three of whom are living — Thomas R., 
a clergyman ; Isabella, wife of John Hooker, of Hartford ; and 
James C, a student of theology. 

Mr. Beecher was married, in 183V, to Miss Bullard, sister of the 
late Rev. Dr. Bullard, of St. Louis, who was killed in the railroad 
accident at Gasconade Bridge, of Rev. Asa Bullard, of Boston, and 
Rev. E. Bullard, of Royalton, Vermont. He has had nine children, 
four of whom are living. 

He takes his given name from two brothers of his mother, who 
died young, and were named after their father, Henry Ward ; who, 
it is worthy of note, showed a characteristic independence and prin- 
ciple in declining to receive the rum-rations when an officer in the 
French and Indian war, at the capture of Louisbourg; and the 
money, which he received instead, he had made into spoons and 
marked " Louisbourg," which are still preserved in the family. So 
that Henry Ward Beecher "comes rightfully" by his temperance 
principles. 

He has made one brief trip to Europe in 1852, and the impres- 
sion he produced is described in the following spirited paragraph, 
published in the British Banner, and written, we understand, by Dr. 
Campbell, an admirable judge of men and of preaching : 
# 

" Mr. Henry Ward Beecher is by far the most amusing and fas- 
cinating American it has ever been our lot to meet. He is a mass 
of flaming fire — restless, fearless, brilliant — a mixture of the poet, 
the orator, and the philosopher, such as we have seldom, if ever. 



206 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

found in any other man to the same extent. He is vivacious beyond 
even the temperature of Paris, and mirthful even to wildness, seem- 
ing not to know that there is such a thing as care or sorrow in the 
world !" 

With allusion to some happy qualities, and we are done. 

1. The summary of Mr. Beecher is health— health of body, of 
mind, and of heart, with the consequent elasticity, vigor, freshness, 
and vitality ; with firm will and robust affections. His blood flows 
free and strong, through brain and muscle. He never looks at sub- 
jects morbidly ; never takes a dyspeptic view of life ; is never more 
solemn than the case demands. 

2. Mr. Beecher has what Coleridge speaks of as "the moral 
accompaniment and actuating principle of genius," which, in the 
following suggestive sentence, he defines to be " the carrying on of 
the freshness and feelings of childhood into the powers of manhood." 

3. His sympathy with nature. No note of bird, no sound of 
water, no sweep of tree, nor wave of grain, nor wild-flower efflo- 
rescence, escapes his sense or fails to utter its spiritual meaning. 
Old ocean's voice, also, and the advancing storm, the distilling dew, 
and the silent snow, are vocal to his ear of truth, of love, and of all 
pervading Divinity. This is noticeable somewhat in the "Star 
Papers," but far more in his sermons. 

4. His acute observation of men. He manages to see all classes, 
to apprehend all varieties of notions and prejudices, to know multi- 
plied experiences, to appropriate manifold expressions, and to get at 
the core of society and the heart of humanity. 

5. He has the characteristic of genius, to see things just as they 
are and describe just as he sees. Hence his remarkable analyses 
of character, which strike home to everybody — those life-pictures in 
which, to most, his fascination lies, and which are probably his forte. 
Quite as much to an honest scanning of his own mind and heart- 
workings is this power attributable. 

6. His affluence. One can only realize the creative vigor of his 
genius by repeated hearing. He preaches three sermons a week, 
two of which are from an hour to an hour and a half long, and yet 



CHARACTERISTICS. 207 

he never repeats and never says what is not fresh. It seems impos- 
sible to exhaust his resources. Only the wealth of his genius seems 
greater than the lavishness of its expenditure. In this we know not 
his equal, in Church or State. He never preaches a sermon that is 
not remarkable. They have differences of degree and striking con- 
trasts of feature, but are never commonplace, and are usually great. 

*7. Mr. Beecher is noteworthy for common sense, a gift rare as 
talent. He never does violence to the universal sense of mankind. 
He takes along with him the convictions of most, and the sympa- 
thies of all. TVith his manifold Extempore, talking week after 
week, without notes and without fetters, in pulpit and on platform, 
of all matters — religious, social, and political, the most exciting and 
the most familiar — it is a little remarkable that he has said so few 
indiscreet things, and so few tame things, and that he has rarely dis- 

sed an audience by pounding his own fingers instead of the nail- 
head. 

8. His familiar greatness. Most men are greater abroad than at 
home. Their best efforts are on special occasions. The opposite is sin- 
gularly true of Mr. Beecher. His popular lectures and published writings 
are but the exuberant offshoots of unusual vitality, compared with the 
depth and reach ol his sermons. They are like the escape-steam 
from a resting locomotive — a necessity, and a beauty too — as, now 
earthward over meadow and through trees, now heavenward, it rolls 
and floats away in free, unstudied, buoyant, and fantastic forms. 
His many-sidedness prevents any comprehension of him by a single 
lecture. Only on his own platform can he be justly known. There 
let us regard him. Mark the substantial building up of truth from 
the rock-foundation ; as we follow the progress of the work, note 
the precise and ramified definitions ; observe the constant good 
sense evincing "that just balance of the faculties which is to the 
judgment what health is to the body;" enjoy the illustrations, 
simple, multiplied, and apt ; see the life-pictures, artistic and beauti- 
ful in their fidelity to nature ; hear the denunciation of oppressions 
and of shams, in contrast with the yearning pathos of loving ap- 
peal ; prepare for the climax — it is reached ; to the platform's end 
he walks preparingly ; muscles harden, and forehead-veins are full — 



208 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

now it comes, that outburst of impassioned eloquence when " speech 
is all heart, and heart all speech," when words are interchangeably the 
manna of the desert, the thunder of the mount, and the meadow's 
dew ; when the Unseen is revealed, and Utterance is the servant of 
Inspiration ; when the hush of Attention is surprised into Emotion, 
and starting tear responds to quivering lip. We are at the pinnacle, 
and we see Henry Ward Beecher, as he is. May God keep " his 
soul from death, his eyes from tears, and his feet from falling !" 

In conclusion, we present a phonographic report of one of his ex- 
tempore prayers, which gives a fair representation of his usual Sab- 
bath ministrations. 

" Our souls rejoice, Thou Blessed One, that we feel ourselves 
drawn towards Thee, for it is not in us to rise; and when our 
thoughts are all tending with sweet affection towards Heaven, we 
know that there have been solicitations, and that God hath yearned 
for us, and sent forth ministering influences to waken love, and lift 
our souls towards Him. And as the sun doth draw up all vapors, and 
wreathe the earth round about the mountain-tops therewith, so in 
Thy high and holy place — yea, up towards Mount Zion above, Thou, 
with sweet and blessed looking, dost draw forth our affections ; and 
our hearts to-day exhale towards Thee. For though we have not 
seen Thee, we know Thee, Thou Mighty One ! Though we have 
never beheld Thee in outward form and guise, our hearts have taken 
hold upon Thee. That hand that was pierced for us hath never 
been laid upon us in our path, nor have those sacred wounded feet 
crossed our threshold ; but that heart, that mind of Thine, the soul 
of God, hath crossed the threshold of our dwellings ; and with our 
hearts, full often, we have had communion with Thee, as friend with 
friend ! 

"And in the times of darkness and of temptation, we have 
wrestled with Thee, even as the Patriarch of old, and Thou hast 
given us victories, which the tongue may not mention, and which 
the heart cannot but think of with joy, and everlasting gratitude. 
In times when affliction seemed to dissolve us, — wh_ ' heart was 
as fruit about to drop from the bough, and there wa a r *.ore 



EXTEMPORE PRAYER. 209 

strength by which to lay hold upon life, Thou hast come, Thou 
Blessed One ! and given strength again to lay hold on life, and to 
be happy in life, and to rise up above the darkness of personal 
distress, and the struggle and the conflict of irmningled evils. 

" Thou hast made us, at times, fearful of dangers ; but afterwards 
Thou hast made us to laugh, as children laugh, when alarmed, and 
then look back to see that it was but the shaking of a leaf. And when 
things have seemed to settle around us in darkness, and troubles 
have come thick upon us, Thou hast lifted us up, and put our feet 
upon a rock, where there was no tide that could reach, and no wave 
that could dash, and no flood that could sweep with destroying ed- 
dies about us to unsettle our peace, or do us harm in thought or 
feeling. 

" And we have been made masters, that before had been servants 
to our circumstances. We have been able to stand undaunted, and 
to beat back troubles that came upon us. Thou hast lifted us up 
from sorrows, from violence, from unexpected evil. When periods of 
dismay have come — drifting in upon us like diffused mists, cold and 
chill, — those days of doubt, when we could see nothing — when the 
pall of silence lay upon every thing, then Thou hast likewise mani- 
fested Thyself unto us. Thou hast given us, at last, a sweet pa- 
tience to stand still, and to wait ; and w T e have found that waiting 
by Thy side is better than running alone ; and that to be empty and 
weak, for Christ's sake, is better than to be full for our own sake. 

" We rejoice that Thou hast, in a thousand ways, manifested Thy- 
self to us, — in all the variations and moods of sorrow, of suffering, of 
discouragement ; of grief that rent our hearts ; of troubles foreboded, 
but which did not come. 

" We thank Thee that Thou hast manifested Thyself to us in all 
the desires and yearnings of our hearts. We have looked out upon 
life with feelings sometimes of joy, and then with a sweet sadness, 
because, after all, there was so little in it, that brightness grew dim, 
almost before it had flashed its brightness forth ; and we have been 
glad of it. 

" We thank Thee that Thou hast addressed Thyself to us by oui 
nobler thoughts, and redeemed the world itself from emptiness, and 

14 



210 HEXBY WABD BEECHEB. 

given it back to us crowned and glorified. Thon hast made the 
things that are round about us — the very flowers that perish, the 
leaves that wither and drop away, the changes of the season — all are 
made to be Thy teachers and preachers to our souls. 

'• But these things alone do not content us ; for they are the things 
of the lower life, and we have yearned for that which vre have not 
We have had divine incitements ; we have had blessed inspirations : 
when all that we knew seemed so fragmentary, and all that we were 
so exceedino;lv little and less than fragmentary ; when we have felt 
that our affections were so cold and ignoble ; when especially, from 
a thought of our own ungratefulness and selfishness and pride, we 
have turned to the bright wision of Thy love — so sweet, so lasting, so 
deep, so gentle, so delicate beyond all expression from human 
tongue ; when we have seemed to ourselves to be so coarse, so low, 
so ignoble, that we scarcely could lift up our eyes unto Thee ! But 
Thou. Blessed One ! hast been pleased to look upon us — out of 
the brightness and radiance of Thine own perfections. Out of the 
depth and purity and sweetness of Thine own love, Thou hast looked 
forgivingly upon our rudeness and our hollowness. our pride, our sel- 
fishness, our jealousy, and hast uttered to our soul promises that we 
should not always be thus. — that if we would have faith, Thou 
would st have patience ; and that Thouwouldst bring us onward and 
upward, step by step, shining brighter and brighter unto the perfect' 
day! 

" Lord Jesus, Thou wilt not forsake one word which Thou hast ever 
uttered. Thou wilt not betray one single hope or expectation in our 
hearts which Thou hast ever suggested ; and all which Thou hast prom- 
ised Thou wilt not only do, but exceeding abundantly more. Thou 
wilt outrun our most fruitful conceptions ; Thou wilt be more gen- 
tle than our heart has felt in its most raptured moments ; Thou wilt 
be more patient than our utmost conception of patience ; Thou wilt 
be more full of love and goodness than our loftiest aspirations. 

'• We rejoice that there is in Thee such infinite goodness, and such 
height, and length, and breadth, and depth of mercy. Still, we are 
not willing to be sinful, or low, or ignorant, or poor, because of Thy 
goodness ; though we have a strange wonder of gladness that we 




EXTEMPORE PRAYER. 211 

are weak, because it sets forth to us such glories in Thee, Thou nour- 
ishing God ! patient with us, as a nurse is patient with her children ! 
Yea, Thou hast Thyself declared, that the mother shall forget her 
nursing child sooner than Thou wilt forget those whom Thou dost 
love ! We take the promise which is in Thy declaration, and we 
set it against the darkness of time and trouble, and weighing down 
of heart with sadness, and we lift ourselves, by this divine help, 
above them all. When we stand under the darkest cloud, we see 
the bow of promise ; and we know that God will not suffer the soul 
to be overwhelmed by any deluge. 

" And now, may we have these bright days more frequently, so 
that their shining may cast a twilight into the dark days that inter- 
vene. As they that watch in the night shall behold the growing 
light of morning reaching up the hill-sides, mounting the highest 
cliffs, and coming down upon the valleys beyond, so mayest Thou who 
watchest for us see that the light of hope, and the glory of God, is 
more and more perfectly enwrapping our whole experience. For it is 
Thy work, blessed Saviour : we are being fashioned by Thy hand, 
and for Thy sake, as well as for our own. Thou art yet to present 
us before the throne of Thy Father spotless ; and heaven is to re- 
sound with acclamations of gladness for our sake, and for Thy sake. 

" Thou, Lord Jesus ! Thou who art mighty over all things, and 
with whom we are fellow-heirs, we rejoice that in all the things 
which we ask for ourselves there is also Thine own interest, and 
Thine own joy and glory, enwrapped ! 

" Now we beseech of Thee that Thou wilt speak peaceably unto 
every heart in Thy presence this morning, according to our various 
necessity. If there be those here that do not know their own 
trouble, but only know that they are troubled, — Thou knowest, and 
Thou canst enter in, and make the darkest chamber of their heart 
serene with light and peace ! 

" We beseech of Thee that Thou wilt sustain those who are bear- 
ing the pressure of affliction. Thou Thyself didst bear affliction for 
them. Thou wert acquainted with grief. And may they look up, 
while their tears flow, into the face of Him who wept, who lived, 
who suffered, who died for them and for their consolation. 



212 HENRY WARD BEECHEE. 

" Grant Thy blessing to those who are suffering the bafflings and 
trials of poverty, in straitened circumstances. Lord, are they poorer 
than Thou wert, who hadst not where to lay Thy head ? Yet so fai 
as is consistent with their good, alleviate their trouble. Kaise them 
up friends, and comforts of life. 

" Bless all those that are tried in their worldly affairs ; who, in 
whatever way they turn, find fears prevailing. Will the Lord be 
gracious unto them, that they may not think their life consisteth in 
the abundance of the things which they possess. May they feel 
that the things of this life, and all the troubles that harass it, 
quickly pass away ; and may they also feel that they are not in any 
wise ruined or overturned. May they lay up their treasure where 
no misfortune may ever assail. May they believe in Him who is rich 
beyond all bankruptcy ! 

" We beseech of Thee that Thou wilt be very near to all that are 
in doubt of mind, and are perplexed in their thoughts and belief 
of things religious. Do Thou teach them the greatest of all truth — 
how to love God, and how to diffuse it upon men. And may they 
at last find encouragement in this, that Thou art their God. 

"We beseech of Thee that to all those who are in the trust of this 
life's prosperities, who are surrounded with friends and comforts, and 
who have been blest abundantly, Thou wilt grant humility, that 
they may not become proud, or hard and unfeeling towards those 
who are less successful and skilful than they ; and by so much as 
they are above them, may they see to it, not only that they use 
their goods for the benefit of the world, but hearts and minds for 
the benefit of their fellow-men. 

" Be near to strangers in our midst, whose hearts yearn for those 
who have been wont to worship with them. Will the Lord bring 
them by faith very near. And as they meet at the foot of the 
Cross, may they consciously be united to all who love the Lord 
Jesus, and whom they love. 

" Diffuse the blessings of the Gospel over all the earth. May sla- 
very cease ; may war cease ; may intemperance cease ; may justice 
reign, and love upon justice ; and may the whole earth be filled 
with the glory of God ! We ask it for Christ's sake. Amen." 



WILLIAM R. WILLIAMS, 

THE BAPTIST PREACHER. 



' ' There is one body, and one Spirit, one Lord, one Faith, one Baptism, 
one God and Father of all." 



*More than twenty years ago, we remember reading, in the 
American Baptist Magazine, a biographical sketch of Rev. John 
Williams, who had removed to this country from Wales, and was 
for many years pastor of the Baptist Church in Oliver-street, New 
York. The article arrested our attention by the purity and grace 
of its style, and the brilliancy of its tone, and we felt that we were 
in contact with a mind on which God had set the unmistakable im- 
press of genius. It was written, we learned, by Mr. William R. 
Williams, then a lawyer, recently admitted to the New York bar, 
and was a tribute of filial piety to the virtues of a beloved and 
justly honored parent. We hope that this memoir may yet grace 
some future edition of the Miscellanies. Not far from this time, at 
the call of his brethren, and under the irresistible convictions of his 
own sou], Mr. Williams exchanged his profession of law for the min- 
istry of the Gospel, and entered upon that work in connection with 
the same Church that has ever since enjoyed the privilege of his 
ministrations. From that time, by the singular purity and excel- 
lence of his personal character, by the depth and fervor of his piety, 
by the rich exuberance of his varied talents, by the wide range of 
his reading and erudition, he has steadily advanced to an eminent 



* For this valuable sketch of the character and style of Dr. Williams, we 
are indebted to Professor A. C. Kendrick, D. D., of Rochester. 



214: WILLIAM E. WILLIAMS. 

and honored place in the religious body to which he is attached, 
and has taken an undisputed rank among the first preachers and re- 
ligious writers of the age. He has attained a reputation in which 
every Baptist may feel a just pride, as an additional evidence that 
Baptist principles are not, as some have supposed, necessarily con- 
nected, either in their origin or tendency, with ignorance and dul- 
ness. 

Indeed, the literary fortunes of the Baptist denomination have 
been not a little remarkable. Its eminently scriptural and simple 
church polity, its unswerving adherence to the New Testament or- 
dinances, its uniform assertion of the doctrine of religious freedom, 
have often coexisted with a degree of humbleness and illiterateness 
on the part of its members, w T hich naturally excited the contempt of 
those influential sects that filled the places of worldly power, and 
presided over the institutions and means of education. Yet, while 
the great mass of its adherents have been plain and unlearned, it 
has produced a few names of the very first distinction, and suffi- 
cient of themselves to redeem it from the reproach of intellectual 
barrenness. We pass over the name of Milton, who, though a 
Baptist in the peculiar doctrines which separate Baptists from other 
evangelical communions, dissented from them all in some important 
tenets of scriptural faith. We pass over, too, a multitude of lesser, 
but highly respected names in the literary annals of our denomi- 
nation. We point now only to the names of Bunyan, Fuller, Hall, 
Foster, Wayland, and Williams, as a constellation of genius, learn- 
ing, and piety, which sheds a brilliant lustre on our denominational 
history. To distinguish and characterize the separate stars in this 
constellation — to portray at length the features of these eminent 
men — is a task beyond our powers, as it is aside from our present 
purpose. Bunyan, unfurnished with the lore of the schools, but 
profoundly taught in the mysteries of faith ; homely in style, but 
pouring forth from a warm heart and a fervid imagination a torrent 
of pure, racy, masculine English ; and by the suffrage, not only of 
the greatest literary critic of our day, but of the whole common- 
wealth of letters, taking his place alongside of the author of 
Paradise Lost, as one of the "two great creative" minds of the 



PRESIDENT WAYLAND. 215 

latter half of the seventeenth century : — Fuller, as great in the de- 
velopment of doctrinal, as Bunyan was of experimental Christianity; 
wholly unambitious of rhetorical embellishment, almost insensible 
to the mere pleasures of taste, but master of a style simple, per- 
spicuous, and dignified, and perfectly adapted to the weighty and 
profound truths of which it was always the vehicle : — Hall, splen- 
did, graceful, and majestic, with a large and various erudition, and 
a thorough intellectual training ; master alike of the sternest weap- 
ons of logic, and " the dazzling fence of rhetoric ;" in style, com- 
bining the sweetness of Addison with the sublimity of Burke ; 
moving with easy and colossal tread through the highest regions of 
thought, and only prevented by a taste, delicate even to fastidious- 
ness, from rising continually to the very loftiest heights of imagina- 
tive eloquence : — Foster, rugged, gloomy, and original ; always 
" putting a new face upon things ;" always diving down to the 
depths, and laying bare the inmost anatomy of man's moral nature ; 
utterly regardless of the mere melodies of style, but expressing 
himself with the most admirable precision, and clothing his 
thoughts in words and images of such picturesqueness and beauty, 
and in sentences of such clumsy construction, that Hall happily 
characterized them as " lumbering wagons, loaded with gold :" — 
Wayland, the expounder of the principles of Moral Obligation, and 
of the Science of Christianity ; clear, exact, and searching in analy- 
sis ; penetrating to the very heart of his subject, and enunciating its 
ultimate principles in a style of transparent clearness and classical 
purity and elegance, and not unfrequently rising to strains of elo- 
quence, which show us 

' ' How sweet an Ovid was in Murray lost ;' ' 

how splendid an imagination has been reined in, and controlled by 
a severely chastised taste, and a predominating habit of metaphysi- 
cal analysis : — and finally, Williams, sweeping along in a strain, of 
which we scarcely know which most to admire, the fertility and 
vigor of the thought, or the wealth of the illustration and beauty 
of the imagery. These are names which represent a treasure, in- 
tellectually and morally, of extraordinary value ; a contribution to 



216 WILLIAM R. WILLIAMS. 

the literature of our denomination and our language which we can- 
not contemplate without pleasure and pride. 

The works of these men should be on the shelves of every intel- 
ligent Baptist. He will find them a library in themselves, guiding 
him into almost every department and domain of religious thought. 
We are aware that, in the case of Hall and Foster, the benefit of the 
perusal, owing to their peculiar mental constitution and circum- 
stances, is not without some drawbacks to ordinary minds. Nei- 
ther was eminent as a theologian. Hall, conscious of splendid abili- 
ties, only came gradually into a full recognition, and under the 
complete sway of the doctrines of grace, and on the subject of com- 
munion his works advocate views at variance with the prevailing 
Baptist usages in this country. Foster was, in temperament, satur- 
nine and gloomy ; remote in his habitual subjects of thought from 
the ordinary range of Christian experience, and on that of future 
punishment, allowing himself, tremblingly, indeed, in a latitude of 
speculation, which, consistently carried out, would go far to sap the 
foundations of evangelical faith. Still, these views by no means 
pervade his writings ; and after making all allowance for whatever 
was peculiar in the talents and temperament of these extraordinary 
men, we repeat the expression of our wish, that the writings, so far 
as accessible, of all these lights of the Church, may be found on the 
shelves, and often in the hands, of every one who owns the Baptist 
name. They are at present, we believe, read more extensively with- 
out the pale of our denomination than within it. We would not 
narrow the circle of their influence ; we would rather enlarge it, by 
bringing them into closer familiarity with those who are the more 
immediate heirs of their treasures of pious thought and consecrated 
eloquence. 

Of the noble list above enumerated, four sleep with the sainted 
and honored dead. Bunyan finished his testimony amidst the 
stormy times of the English Eevolution. Fuller died in 1815, after 
a life of surpassing activity and usefulness. Hall, just twenty years 
ago, exchanged a life of almost perpetual agony for the rest of 
heaven ; and only very recently his friend, Foster, has gone down to 
the tomb full of honors and of years. Wayland and Williams are 



PRESIDENT WAYLAND. 217 

among us in the vigor and maturity of their powers, ornaments and 
pillars of our American Zion. We shall incur no charge of exagger- 
ation in placing their names alongside of those of the illustrious 
dead. Their writings, comparatively limited in quantity, are of a 
value which stamps them as classics in the language. They are 
living — they are among us — they are our own ; and we must be 
permitted for a few moments longer to hold their names in juxtapo- 
sition. In the cast and structure of their minds they are, indeed, 
widely different. Dr. "Wayland, although an accomplished scholar, 
makes, we presume, no pretention to the almost unlimited range of 
erudition which characterizes his younger contemporary. Dr. Wil- 
liams, although a vigorous and original thinker, would readily yield 
the palm to Dr. Wayland in respect to the power and habits of close 
logical reasoning and analysis. Dr. Wayland is a sound scholar, 
and a distinguished thinker ; Dr. Williams is a sound thinker, and a 
distinguished scholar. Dr. Wayland illustrates but sparingly from 
history, but always with great propriety and effect ; Dr. Williams 
almost overwhelms us with the affluence of his historical illustrations. 
In Dr. Wayland, the metaphysical element predominates over the 
rhetorical ; in Dr. Williams, the rhetorical and imaginative are more 
conspicuous than the metaphysical. Dr. Wayland seeks to present 
truth in its most abstract and general expression ; Dr. Williams to 
embody it in some striking incident or image. The style of the two 
is as widely diverse as their modes of thinking. That of Dr. Way- 
land has the advantage in perspicuity, simplicity} and classical finish 
and elegance ; that of Dr. Williams excels in the abundance with 
which it pours fourth beautiful thought and imagery, careless of 
graces, and yet perpetually snatching graces beyond the reach of art. 
A page of Dr. Wayland is an English landscape, chastened by taste- 
ful cultivation into severe beauty and regulated fertility ; a page of 
Dr. Williams is an American forest — a wilderness of untamed mag- 
nificence and beauty. Dr. Wayland reminds us of a Grecian tem- 
ple, wrought of the most precious materials into the most perfect 
symmetry and proportion; Dr. Williams, of a Gothic cathedral, 
gorgeous in its manifold decorations, resounding with organ melo- 
dies, and clustering with the. solemn associations of the Middle Ages. 



218 WILLIAM E. WILLIAMS. 

Both are far from being mere men of the closet. Both are " men 
of thought and men of action ;" men of ready practical, as well as 
of profound theoretical wisdom. Both have not only plenty of bul- 
lion dug out from the mines of thought, and stored up in the capa- 
cious chambers of their intellects, but (what many great men have 
not) plenty of change for the ordinary currency of life. Both have 
a constant and keen eye upon the great moral and political changes 
which are going forward in society ; and while, on the whole, de- 
cidedly conservative in their principles, have a warm and deep sym- 
pathy with every movement which tends to the world's disenthral- 
raent and elevation. Both exert a powerful influence in our reli- 
gious organizations and deliberative assemblies. The noble and ma- 
jestic form of Dr. Wayland enforces the sentiments of wisdom which 
he so eloquently utters ; the slender frame and shrinking modesty of 
Dr. "Williams lend an indescribable charm to the rich melodies of 
thought and speech that tremble from his tongue, and seem to gush 
in a resistless torrent from his soul. 

From the pens of both, the American Church has yet much to 
hope and to expect. We should regard it as a great calamity to the 
cause of letters and religion, should either lay aside his pen before 
giving us many more of the fruits of his large experience and ma- 
tured powers. Dr. Williams is understood to be accumulating ma- 
terials for a work, to which the wishes of his brethren have long 
destined him — the preparation of a history of the Church, in special 
connection with that of his own denomination. May God spare his 
life to bring the work to a happy completion ! Dr. Wayland has 
published the biography of that apostle of Modern Missions, the late 
Dr. Judson. No more appropriate designation could have been 
made. It was fitting that such a Christian scholar should commem- 
orate the deeds of such a Christian hero ; that he whose sermon on 
the Moral Dignity of the Missionary Enterprise, thrilled and fired, in 
the infancy of that enterprise, the heart of the Church universal, and 
did more than any other single cause to enthrone it in the respect and 
admiration of the civilized world, should record the achievements, and 
delineate the character, of him in whom, of all modern men, the sub- 
limity of the missionary principle has been the most perfectly embodied. 



SENTENTIOUS ENERGY. 219 

But it is time to turn to the more immediate subject of our present 
paper. It is matter of just congratulation to the public, that Dr. 
Williams has at length come forward with a more formal claim 
upon its attention, than in the occasional single discourses which he 
had previously published. We rejoice that he has taken his place 
distinctly in the field of religious authorship. Such as have had the 
privilege of sharing his private intercourse, and of listening to him 
in meetings of business and debate, have known that the productions 
of his pen, the noble discourses which he has laid before the public, 
were little more than specimens of the habitual products of his mind. 
We have heard him on topics that sprung up casually in the turn 
of a debate, where all previous preparation was precluded, give utter- 
ance, on the spur of the moment, to an argument as complete and 
compact, couched in language as finished and graceful, and at once 
adorned and enforced by as ample a fund of illustration, as are, per- 
haps, to be met even in his more elaborate discourses. 

Indeed, nothing in Dr. Williams is more striking than his uniform 
and complete command of his powers ; the promptness and dexterity 
with which he marshals, and, with the speed of light, concentrates 
his intellectual resources. It seems as if that capacious memory had 
gathered every fact in the wide domain of art and science, and more 
especially of sacred, civil, and literary history, and held them all in 
perfect subordination, ready in an instant to accumulate their whole 
force on the point to be defended or assailed. Dr. Williams's mind 
has no every-day and Sunday dress. He is not, like Goldsmith, 
common-place in conversation, but brilliant with the pen. He is 
rather like Goldsmith's celebrated and gigantic contemporary, John- 
son, whose ordinary conversation conveyed lessons of not inferior 
wisdom, and couched in language of purer and more nervous elo- 
quence, than his writings. In Johnson, and probably in Robert 
Hall, the advantage in sententious energy was on the side of their 
extemporaneous efforts. The mind of neither was sufficiently simple 
and self-oblivious to be entirely natural, when consciously approach- 
ing the great tribunal of the public. Williams is Williams every- 
where. His intellect is too active and rapid not to do itself justice 
on the most ordinary occasions ; while he is too thoroughly absorbed 



220 WILLIAM E. WILLIAMS. 

in his subject to let the fear of criticism influence his more elaborate 
performances. We have no great respect for Boswell. Macaulay 
tells us that it was not merely in spite, but because of his being one 
of the most despicable men that ever lived, that he produced one of 
the best biographies that were ever written. But we almost wish 
Dr. Williams could be Boswellized. There are few men, we think, 
the every-day effusions of whose intellect would yield so rich a ban- 
quet of wisdom. 

Were we to attempt an analysis of Dr. Williams's characteristics 
as a writer, we should assign the first place to the eminent spiritu- 
ality and devotion evinced in his works ; not merely to their uniform 
recognition of, but their thorough baptism in, the great truths of 
evangelical religion. The Gospel, as a scheme for man's redemption 
and a code of human duty, reigns supreme in his affections, and he 
bows to the sway of its truths his whole intellectual and moral 
nature. Few writers bring out in greater richness, the glorious doc- 
trines of the Gospel ; and fewer still unfold so fully their bearing on 
all the duties, relations, and interests of men. Dr. Williams is a 
theologian; but we think not strictly a metaphysical theologian. 
He holds, we doubt not, a clearly-defined and well-adjusted system 
of Scripture doctrines, and is well read in the theology of our own 
and of former times. But the form under which he loves to con- 
template divine truth, is not that of a system of abstract dogmas, 
bound together by logical affinities, but of practical principles, per- 
vading the affairs, and controlling the destinies of men ; the pivots 
around which human society revolves ; the grand nervous network 
distributed through the entire social body, and bringing it into vital 
contact with the Supreme and Infinite Mind. In the light of reli- 
gious truth, he contemplates all the facts of human history and 
human life ; and with great freedom and justness brings religious 
principles to bear on every department of human action. In all the 
changes of society, he sees but the evidences of a God honored or 
disobeyed ; of moral principle heeded or trampled under foot. 

Another feature of Dr. Williams's writings is the extensive reading 
and erudition which they display. His varied and universal know- 
ledge, like the gold of California, crops out at every point, and forces 



AFFLUENCE OF ILLUSTRATION. 221 

itself forth in an nnfailing opulence of illustration and imagery. 
There is, indeed, no parade of learning. Although a scholar from 
the cradle, and thoroughly versed both in the original languages of 
Scripture and in the languages and literature of Modern Europe, yet 
he rarely puts himself before the public in the attitude, or with the 
pretensions, of a scholar. Yet every page teems with the evidences 
of a richly-stored mind ; of a mind that has gathered its treasures 
not merely in the ordinary and beaten walks of knowledge,, but in 
regions which only few minds enter, and still fewer thoroughly 
explore. Dr. Williams's acquaintance with history — a study of 
which he seems peculiarly fond — is equally comprehensive and pro- 
found. To adopt his own striking figure, he is equally ready to do 
battle with the enemy at the gates, and to shift his ground to the 
graves of the Fathers and the monuments of the old past. We know 
of no religious writer of our times, unless it be Isaac Taylor, nor of 
any secular writer except Macaulay, who revels in so rich a store of 
knowledge respecting all the great movements and aspects of the 
church and the World, both in our own and former times. The 
most obscure and recondite epochs and sections of church history, 
he seems thoroughly to have explored. The whole cycle of changes 
through which infidel philosophy has passed, its scoffing, its specu- 
lative, its scientific, its transcendental, and its socialist aspects — 
with all he seems equally familiar, and against all he levels his 
powerful artillery. 

This affluence of illustration, especially of historical illustration, 
imparts to the pages of Dr. Williams a very marked character. 
Names which rarely appear in pulpit discourses, the names of phi- 
losophers, statesmen, poets, infidels, as well as of Patriarchs, Apostles, 
and Fathers of the Church, are of constant recurrence in his writings. 
In this, we think, he judges wisely. There is, we believe, a prevail- 
ing prejudice in our churches against the introduction, to any con- 
siderable extent, of names and incidents from secular history ; and 
some clergymen systematically confine all their historical references 
within the limits of the Sacred Narratives. Whatever may be the 
origin of this prejudice, we are convinced that it is a prejudice, and 
that our educated preachers would add to the freshness and interest 



222 WILLIAM R. WILLIAMS. 

of their discourses by bringing them into contact at a larger number 
of points with human life, and especially by widening their range of 
historical illustration. We grant that no uninspired narrative can 
rival, in importance and interest, those of the Sacred record. We 
grant that there is probably no principle of truth and duty of which 
they do not somewhere furnish an illustration. But so does the 
Lord's Prayer surpass in weight and fulness of meaning, any suppli- 
cation ever breathed from human lips, and enfolds in some one of its 
clauses the substance of every aspiration which the human heart can 
utter to its God. With just as much propriety, therefore, might we 
cast all our supplications into the mould furnished by the great Au- 
thor of prayer, as circumscribe our lessons of instruction from the 
Divine Government, whether in or out of the pulpit, by that narrow, 
though pregnant section of it comprised within the Sacred Narra- 
tives. Take the periods from which Dr. Williams draws some of his 
most impressive illustrations : The Epoch of the Protestant Reforma- 
tion ; the period of English history which witnessed the conflict be- 
tween the stern piety of the Puritan, and the brilliant profligacy of 
the Cavalier ; the age of riotous infidelity, which found its culmina- 
ting point and fitting climax in the horrors of the French Revolution. 
These periods approach near to our own day. They fostered princi- 
ples and originated states of society, of which we yet feel the influ- 
ence. And shall not the teacher of religion be permitted to single 
out from these and other periods, such striking examples as may, 
either by conformity or contrast, enforce the great truths which he 
delivers? Studying the Lord's Prayer, teaches us how to pray. 
Studying the history of the Bible, teaches us how to read all his- 
tory ; furnishes the key with which we are to unlock its secrets ; 
the light in which we are to decipher and interpret the otherwise 
inexplicable hieroglyphics — the Menes and Tekels — the words of fate 
and doom which the finger of God's providence inscribes on the 
palace-walls of empires. 

We are aware of the necessary conditions of our recommendation. 
He who would illustrate from history, must know history, and that 
not superficially, but thoroughly. If ministers made themselves at 
home in any branch or section of history, they could not refrain 



ORIGINALITY. 

from allusions to it on befitting occasions. Here is one of the 
strong points of Dr. Williams : he has studied the chronicles of for- 
mer times, until he lives in the past, as other men live in the present. 
He has but to start an idea, and names and facts come clustering 
round it to bring it within the recognized sphere of human expe- 
rience, to give it at once life and confirmation. He has read history, 
not only deeply, but in the devout spirit of a Christian. With him, 
practically as well as theoretically, the God of Nature, of Providence, 
and of Revelation, is one God ; and wherever he sees the footprints 
of that Glorious Being — wherever he sees a blessing following obe- 
dience to Him, and disobedience linked to its inevitable curse, he 
does not hesitate to seize and hold up the lesson. 

But wide as has been Dr. Williams's reading, large as is his stock 
of erudition, it has not overlaid and smothered his powers of original 
and independent thinking. His writings display everywhere an in- 
tellect equally active and vigorous ; a mind that makes its own ob- 
servations, that draws its own conclusions, and uses its large stores 
of information, not as substitutes, but materials for thought. His 
mind never rests upon the surface of his facts, but pierces below to 
the principle which they embody ; and it is in illustration of that 
principle that they marshal themselves on his page. We will not 
say that his historical facts do not sometimes mislead him ; that an 
illustration does not sometimes impose itself upon him as an argu- 
ment ; and that sometimes his mind does not seem to be overbur- 
dened by his multifarious acquisitions. It would be strange, indeed) 
if such were not the case. Yet rarely, we think, is learning so 
various accompanied by original powers of so high an order. Rarely 
are large treasures of intellectual wealth so little oppressive to their 
possessor. Rarely is an intellectual armor so heavy and complete, 
adjusted so perfectly to its wearer, and borne and wielded with so 
much ease. 

But along with a large fund of knowledge and powers of think- 
ing of a high order, Dr. Williams's writings evince an uncommonly 
brilliant and fervid imagination. This ruses and blends into har- 
mony all his powers and acquisitions, imparts to his pages, ever, 
fresh life and interest, and causes them to teem with the most strik- 



224 WILLIAM K. WILLIAMS. 

ing and beautiful imagery. Indeed, Dr. Williams thinks in meta- 
phor ; his figures are not after-thoughts, superinduced upon his 
style of illustration or embellishment ; they are wrought into the 
very texture of his thought ; they are the form, the body, which it 
naturally and almost necessarily assumes. We must be permitted 
to string together a few of those pearls of imagery with which his 
writings abound. We take them almost at random. In the Mis- 
cellanies (p. 6), he says of Literature, that " it is the Nilometer on 
whose graded scale we read not merely the height to which the 
rushing stream of the nation's intellect has risen, or the degree to 
which it has sunk, but also the character and extent of the harvests 
yet to be reaped in coming months along the whole course of these 
waters." 

The following, from Religious Progress (p. 48), is a beautiful speci- 
men at once of historical illustration and bold metaphor. The " roll- 
call of the dead" is a conception which belongs to the noblest class 
of imagery : 

" Those who have attained, are honored, and presented as patterns 
and incentives for the emulation of those who come after. ' Being 
dead, they yet speak.' It was a touching memorial to their com- 
rade, the warrior of Breton birth, La Tour d'Auvergne, the first 
grenadier of France, as he was called, when after his death, his 
comrades insisted that, though dead, his name should not be re- 
moved from the rolls : it was still regularly called, and one of the 
survivors as regularly answered for the departed soldier : ' Dead on 
the field.' The eleventh chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews is 
such roll-call of the dead. It is the register of a regiment, which 
will not allow death to blot names from its page, but records the 
soldiers who have, in its ranks, won honorable graves and long- 
abiding victories." — P. 48. 

" As Geology scratches the rind of our globe, some are hoping to 
dig up and fling out before the nations a contradiction to the oracles 
of the earth's Creator ; and to find a birth-mark on the creature that 
shall impeach the truth of its Maker's registers as to its age and 
history."— P. 21. 

" Faith does not assume to dissect away the Divine Justice from 



BEAUTIES OF STYLE. 225 

the Divine Mercy. It was a fraudulent claimant to the sacred title 
of mother, who at the throne of Solomon, asked the division of the 
living child. And it is but a spurious faith, and a forged Christianity, 
that would hew apart, at the foot of the Mercy-seat, the living Christ, 
and taking His grace, leave His holiness." — P. 47. 

" Man has capacities and aspirations that the earthly, the perisha- 
ble, the finite, and the sinful can never satisfy. In tenderness to our 
race, God commands them to seek in Himself, in the knowledge of 
His nature and will, and in communion with Him, those enjoyments 
that naught lower and less than Himself can furnish. We can 
easily conceive, in the lower orders of creation, how unhappy it 
were that a being of higher endowments and long duration, should 
be decreed to mate with, and hang upon one of much inferior nature 
and of shorter date than itself. If, for instance, the aloe, the 
plant of centuries, were fated to be the appendage and parasite of the 
ephemeron, the insect of a day, it would be doomed virtually to 
early and lonely widowhood by the untimely decay of its idol, and 
the perfect inadequacy and early rottenness of its appointed prop. 
The soul, with its unrenounceable immortality, and its infinite as- 
pirations, is such plant of the long centuries, an aloe of the eternities 
beyond this world. Did God permit man to accept as supreme 
standard, and object, and end, aught finite, mortal, and imperfect, it 
would be mating this, His creature, to inevitable disappointment and 
boundless misery." — P. 51. 

The style of Dr. Williams is in harmony with the above charac- 
teristics ; it is always racy, vigorous, and eloquent, with a certain 
quaintness and tinge of the antique, in which we discern the writer's 
familiarity with the authors of the seventeenth century. Not that 
it bears any marks of formal imitation ; its beauties, and they are 
great, and its faults, which are not wanting, are all his own. There 
is nothing stereotyped, nothing common-place ; his mind shakes 
itself free from all conventional superficialities, strikes into the heart 
of the subject, and as it pursues its unbeaten way, turns up per- 
petually new and striking beauties of diction and imagery. Of our 
author it may be emphatically said, " nil quod tetigit non ornavit" — 

15 



226 WILLIAM R. WILLIAMS. 

he adorns whatever he teaches. The most common-place theme 
opens into richness beneath his handling ; the most common-place 
thought starts into beauty beneath the magic of his pen. His style 
has great breadth, variety, and power. In the richness and warmth 
of its coloring — in the fulness and loftiness of its march— in its oc- 
casional irregularities and negligence of the minor graces of expres- 
sion, it reminds us of Chalmers, between whose mind and that of 
Dr. Williams there are some strong points of analogy. His words 
are felicitously chosen, or rather, they hardly seem to be chosen at 
all, but gush spontaneously forth as the natural and appropriate 
embodiment of the thought They have great freedom and fresh- 
ness, and in their imaginative and picturesque character, they remind 
us of the quality which Macaulay ascribes to Miltou, and which is 
also eminently characteristic of Foster. They are charmed words. 
They suggest to the imagination more than they convey directly to 
.the intellect. They open far-reaching vistas, through which the 
»ind looks out on either side of that luminous track along which 
rfche author is conducting it. 

The faults of Dr. Williams's style are closely allied to his excel- 
lences. St would probably be objected to as too ornate, too prolific 
of imagery. His mind is a tropical region, in which fruits and flow- 
.ers of extraordinary beauty are poured forth even in rank luxuriance. 
The mind of the reader sometimes asks the repose of a diction more 
simple and severe. Such, however, is the constitution of Dr. Wil- 
liams's mind : he could not change it if he would ; and we neither 
expect nor wish that he should make the attempt. Had Burke or 
Chalmers been asked to rein in, and bring down to a somewhat 
juster level, their sweeping and majestic march of diction, and to 
chasten into perfect taste their exuberant and gorgeous imagery, 
they would probably have disregarded the requirement ; or, in at- 
tempting compliance, would have sacrificed far higher excellences 
than they would have gained. Many spots that dim their lustre 
would have been removed, but the lustre itself would have gone 
with them. We should have had abundance of correctness, but we 
should not have had Burke and Chalmers. Style is inseparably al- 
lied to thought — it is the image and expression of the writer's mind ; 



criticisms. 227 

and to ask any radical change in it, is to ask a radical revolution in 
his modes of thinking. 

What we would ask from Dr. Williams is, a more frequent " turn- 
ing of the style," a grealer severity in the work of revision. Let him 
4k write with fury," but correct with somewhat more of " phlegm." 
Subjects so important as those which he discusses, thoughts so 
weighty as those which he utters, are worthy of being put forth in 
the very best form which he can bestow upon them. Some of his 
productions bear the marks of haste ; the structure of the sentences 
is not unfrequently negligent and ungraceful — sometimes obscure — 
and sometimes clogged by repetitions. A sentence is not unfre- 
quently drawn out by the addition of clauses, which would much 
better form a new and independent construction. We might give 
many examples of these blemishes, especially from the Discourses on 
Religious Progress, but we think it unnecessary. We will merely cite 
one or two from his works indiscriminately. On the first page of the 
Miscellanies we have the sentence : " You know how the physical 
condition of a people may remain unchanged, whilst the moral condi- 
tion of a people is deteriorating rapidly and fatally." The repetition 
of " of a people," here strikes us as ungraceful. So in the sentence 
but one immediately preceding : " Acting on the homes of a land — 
it must send out its waters — over the length and breadth of our 
goodly land ;" the construction is certainly wanting in unity and 
compactness. On page 38 of "Religious Progress," the sentence 
commencing, " Nay, in your own hearts," furnishes an instance of 
hasty and even inaccurate construction. Constructions, like the fol- 
lowing, occasionally occurring, we cannot approve : " Till the Sab- 
bath was stript of its legitimate honors, of its sanctities not only, but 
of its decencies even." The phrase, " far as," for " as far as," ap- 
peal's frequently in these pages. It is admissible in poetry, but in 
prose is inelegant, except in the sense of " however far," which is 
not our author's mode of using it. Our author is also unmerciful in 
his use of the conjunction " and," in an enumeration of particulars, as 
A, and B, and C. We need hardly say, that in respect to this there 
are three classes of constructions : first, the asyndeton, or entire 
omission of the connecting particle ; second, its omission between all 



99S 



WILLIAM E. WILLIAMS. 



the terms of the series, except the two last ; and, finally, its insertion 
between them all. The second of these is the ordinary construction, 
The first is favorable to condensed energy, and is in frequent use with 
Demosthenes. The last is occasionally propfer for rhetorical amplifi- 
cation, or for detaining the members of the series under the mind of 
the reader. Dr. Williams's use of it is sometimes very striking ; but 
he employs it, on the whole, so constantly and indiscriminately, as 
frequently to encumber his sentences, and deprive the figure of nearly 
all its legitimate effect. 

One more, of these little matters, and we dismiss them. The 
style of Dr. Williams is highly figurative, and often has a tinge of 
the poetic. To this we make no objection ; it is the secret, doubt- 
less, of much of its fascination. We might, indeed, express our sur- 
prise that a mind so poetically constituted, so fertile in poetic diction 
and imagery, should so rarely give to its thoughts the garb of poeti- 
cal quotation. We scarcely remember to have met half a dozen cita- 
tions from the poets in the whole range of his works, hardly more 
than are to be found in the single discourse on the Moral Dignity of 
the Missionary Enterprise. How much poetical taste and feeling Dr. 
Williams may have smothered beneath the heavy tomes of patristic 
and Jesuitical lore, we do not know ; but we rather think that Burns 
and Shakspeare are more frequently in the hands of the metaphysi- 
cal President than of the imaginative Divine. We merely glance at 
the fact as a little curious ; as showing how qualities, apparently un- 
congenial, are often found united ; how the flowers of poesy (whose 
presiding genius is imagination) may sometimes leave a soil teeming 
with the luxuriance of a fervid fancy, to shed their sweets and blos- 
soms over the colder regions of metaphysics. But this was not the 
point of our present remark. We were going merely to object to 
his frequent use of certain words, which we believe are ordinarily in- 
terdicted to the writer of prose, and claimed as the peculiar heritage 
of the poets. Among these are " oft," for " often ;" " ere," for " be- 
fore ;" and, in most cases, " aught" and " naught," for " any thing" 
and " nothing." Dr. Williams would not use the poetic " morn" and 
" eve," for " morning" and " evening ;" and, to us, the words above 
cited seem but little better. We think the substitution of the cus- 



"religious progress." 229 

tomaiy prose forms, in these and kindred cases, would give to Ms 
style more manliness and dignity. 

But we will have done with this minute criticism. We are sure 
Dr. Williams will not regard it as unkindly meant. The faults 
which we speak of here, spring partly from haste, partly from 
too great an indifference to mere matters of language, and partly, 
we think, from the character of the author's studies, which have 
often led him into regions remote from the walks of elegant literature, 
fields on which the dews of Castaly have never been distilled. These 
blemishes affect mainly the embroidery, not the substance of his 
style. They are such as, with his nice ear and delicate appreciation 
of the beautiful, a little attention would easily remove, leaving his 
works the gainer for more than in proportion to the labor expended. 
Were his writings of less intrinsic excellence, we should feel less 
solicitude on this point ; but they are destined to become, or rather 
already have taken their place among our religious classics, and will 
convey their lessons of theoretical and practical godliness to increas- 
ing thousands in coming generations. In proportion, then, to their 
intrinsic value, and the extent and elevation of the sphere which 
they are destined to fill, is our desire that they should be freed from 
every thing that may impair their beauty, or hinder their usefulness. 
According to the preciousness of the substance, we would have the 
perfection of the form. The finish of the work should correspond 
with the richness of the material. Our appeal in this matter is not 
merely to Dr. Williams's regard for his literary reputation : it rests on 
higher considerations. Thousands are affected by beauties or faults 
of composition, who never analyze their mental processes, and are, 
totally unable to explain the cause of their emotions. A perspicuous, 
transparent style, like a pure atmosphere, revealing every object in 
its true form and color, has a powerful effect alike on the most cul- 
tivated and the most illiterate — the latter will be moved, they know 
not why ; the former will enjoy, with added zest, those beauties of 
thought and sentiment, which are enhanced by the graces of appro- 
priate and finished diction. 

The principal work published by Dr. Williams is entitled " Re- 
ligious Progress," discourses on the development of the Christian 



230 WILLIAM R; WILLIAMS. 

character ; and consists of a series of discourses founded on that strik- 
ing passage of II. Peter, " And besides all this, add to your faith, 
virtue ; and to virtue, knowledge ; and to knowledge, temperance ; 
and to temperance, patience ; and to patience, godliness ; and to 
godliness, brotherly kindness ; and to brotherly kindness, charity." 

We learn from the Dedication that the sermons were prepared 
and published at the suggestion of Rev. Elisha Tucker, of Chicago ; 
and in this, Dr. Tucker has added another to the many obligations of 
gratitude under which the Church has been laid by a long, laborious, 
and useful ministry. The series is introduced by a sermon founded 
on the word " add," which discusses religion as a principle of - 
growth ; and this is followed by a discourse upon each of the graces 
named in the text. We have thus a beautiful development of the 
subjects of faith, virtue, knowledge, temperance, patience, godliness, 
brotherly kindness, and charity, or love. The nature of each grace 
is explained ; its relation to its sister graces as their complement or 
natural antecedent, is skilfully unfolded ; and then the importance 
and claims of each, urged with great fervency and power. The 
work, as a whole, is a noble tribute to the truth, efficacy, and glory 
of the great principles of the Gospel. No Christian can read it 
without feeling the foundations of his religious faith strengthened, 
and fresh springs of religious joy and consolation opened ; and no 
unbeliever can read it without a secret conviction, that here is a 
philosophy infinitely transcending the highest wisdom of earth ; a 
philosophy that goes to the deepest springs of human character, and 
furnishes the true key to human destiny. It is a timely work. It 
r proceeds from a mind which is penetrated with the glorious truths 
of the Gospel, and reflects, like an immense mirror, the manifold as- 
pects of the age, notes the various phases of religious error and un- 
belief, and shows how they all " lose discountenanced, and like folly 
show," by the side of the divine wisdom of the Bible. 

We wish we had time for an analysis of some of these discourses, 
and a discussion of their separate peculiarities. W"e have been 
struck by the great freedom and variety of structure which they 
exhibit. There is no stereotype form into which they are all cast, 
but each has its own outline and analysis, according to the exigen- 



TRE MISSIONARY AGE. 231 

t cies of its particular theme. The first discourse treats of " Religion 
as a Principle of Growth." The author here first discusses those 
religious and secular features of the age, which require that the 
progressive energy of Christianity be now especially heeded ; and 
then alike from the general provisions of the Gospel for human 
sanctification, and from the peculiar phraseology of the text, he il- 
lustrates and enforces his position. Under the first general head he 
considers the age in its religious aspects : 1. As an age of Missions ; 

2. As an age of Revivals ; 3. As an age of Historical Research : 
and again, in its secular aspects, as an age, 1. Of rapid and eager 
discovery in the Physical Sciences ; 2. Of Political Revolutions ; 

3. Of Social Reform. In this catalogue of the leading features of 
the age, the reflecting reader will be struck with the justness, and, 
we may add, the completeness of the inventory. The treatment ot 
all these topics is able ; and of some, strikingly so. We cannot 
forbear to enrich our article with the following, on the present as a 
Missionary age : 

" The Church, we said, needs in this age to be kept in mind of 
the great truth, that there remains yet much land to be possessed ; 
not only as the common heritage of the faithful, but as the personal 
allotment and homestead, so to speak, of each one of the faithful. 
The churches, rediscovering a long neglected duty, are now attempt- 
ing to evangelize the heathen. It is an age of missions. The isl- 
ands of the Pacific have heard the cry, after the lapse of eighteen 
centuries, that our earth has been honored and blessed by the com- 
ing of a Divine Redeemer. China has shuddered to see the long 
dominion of her Confucius and her Boodh invaded by the Gospel 
of Jesus the Nazarene. The Shasters of Brahminism find their sa- 
cred Sanscrit tongue employed, by the diligence and fidelity of mis- 
sionary translators, to utter the oracles of that One True God, who 
will banish from under the heavens which they have not made, and 
which He has made, all the hundred thousand gods of the Hindoo 
Pantheon, with all the other idols of the nations, however ancient 
and however popular. The tinglings of a new life from on high 
seem, along the coasts of Asia and of Africa, shooting into nations 
that Paganism held for ages senseless and palsied. Is not Ethiopia 



232 WILLIAM E. WILLIAMS. 

soon to be, as the prophetic eye of the Psalmist long ages ago saw 
her, stretching out her hands unto God ? But whilst each Christian 
church, each band of spiritual disciples, in lands long evangelized, 
is thus lengthening the cords of her tent to take in the Gentiles un- 
der its broad canopy, she must in consequence, and as it were in 
counterpoise, of the extension, strengthen her stakes at home, to 
bear the increased tension and the extended shelter. Her supports 
must be proportionately augmented at home, by a deepening piety 
and a sturdier vigor of principle in her discipleship, or the work will 
soon come to a stand abroad. A sickly and bedwarfed Christianity 
here will not furnish the requisite laborers, or the needful funds. 
Expansion without solidity will bring upon our Zion the ruin of the 
arch unduly elongated and heavily overloaded. Christendom itself 
must be more thoroughly Christianized, before Heathendom will re- 
linquish its old character and worship, and learn our creed and love 
our Saviour. Already the zeal and heroic sacrifices of some of our 
recent converts shame, and should stimulate, the comparative world 
liness and lukewarmness of the churches that had first sent to them 
the missionary and the Bible." — P. 16. 

"We also add the paragraph on the scientific aspects of the 
age: 

" The world, falsely or with justice, is shouting its own progress, 
and promising, in the advancement of the masses, the moral devel- 
opment of the individual. It is an age of eager and rapid discovery 
in the Physical Sciences. The laws and uses of matter receive pro- 
found investigation, and each day are practically applied with some 
new success. But some of the philosophers thus busied about the 
material world, seem to think that the world of mind is virtually a 
nonentity. As Geology scratches the rind of our globe, some are 
hoping to dig up and fling out before the nations a contradiction to 
the oracles of the earth's Creator, and to find a birth-mark on the 
creature that shall impeach the truth of its Maker's registers as to 
its age and history. Others, in the strides of Astronomy, along her 
star-paved way, hope to see her travel beyond the eye of the Hebrew 
Jehovah, and bringing back from her far journey a denial of the word 
that His lips have uttered. Yet Physical Science can certainly neither 



SCIENTIFIC ASPECTS OF THE AGE. 233 

create nor replace Moral Truth. The crucible of the chemist cannot 
disintegrate the human soul, or evaporate the Moral Law. The 
Decalogue, and the Sermon on the Mount, Conscience and Sin, the 
superhuman majesty and purity of Christ, the Holy Ghost and the 
Mercy-seat, would remain, even if a new Cuvier and another New- 
ton should arise, to carry far higher, and to sink far deeper, than it 
has ever yet done, the line of human research ; and even if these 
new masters of physical lore should blaspheme where the older 
teachers may have adored. Some claim that Revelation must be 
recast, to meet the advances in Natural Science. They overlook the 
true limitations as to the power and prerogatives of mere Material 
Knowledge. And what are the new and loftier views of man's origin 
and destiny which these reformers propose to substitute for those 
views which they would abolish ? On the basis of a few hardy gen- 
eralizations upon imaginary or distorted facts, and by the aid of 
some ingenious assumptions, a system is excogitated that is to strip 
the race of immortality, conscience, and accountability, and that 
represents us as but a development of the ape, to be one day su- 
perseded by some being of yet nobler developments than our own, 
and who will have the right to rule and kill us, as we now rule and 
kill the beasts of the forest. And is it thus that Philosophy re- 
forms upon the Bible ? No — in the endeavor to outgrow Revela- 
tion, it has but succeeded in outgrowing reason, and brutifying 
humanity. No — let Science perfect yet more her telescopes, and 
make taller her observatories, and deeper her mines, and more 
searching her crucibles ; all will not undermine Jehovah's throne, or 
sweep out of the moral heavens the great star-like truths of Revela- 
tion, and least of all the Son of Righteousness. God's omniscience 
is never to be ultimately brought down to, and schooled by, man's 
nescience, as its last standard and test. The last and greatest of 
the world's scholars will, we doubt not, be among the lowliest wor- 
shippers, and the loudest heralds of the crucified Nazarene. The 
Gospel is true — true intensely, entirely, and eternally ; and all other 
and inferior truth, as it shall be more patiently and thoroughly 
evolved, will assume its due place and proportion, as buttressing and 
exalting the great, pervading, controlling, incarnate Truth — Christ 



234 WILLIAM R. WILLIAMS. 

the Maker, the Sovereign, the Upholder, and the Judge, no less than 
the Redeemer of the world." 

But we pass to the next discourse, which is entitled, " Faith, the 
Root of the Christian Life." After a characteristic and appropriate 
introduction, the author inquires : I. " What is Faith ; II. Why it 
has assigned (to) it this priority in the Christian system ; and III. 
How, from the necessity of its nature, it becomes a root of spiritual 
growth and practical development." Under the first head, he shows 
that faith " is not the mere hereditary and passive acquiescence in 
Christianity, as the religion of our country and of our forefathers. 
Nor is it a reception into the intellect merely, apart from the heart, 
of any creed, however orthodox. Nor is it a mere enthusiastic per- 
suasion, without Scriptural evidence, and unsustained by the warrant 
and witness of the Holy Ghost, that God loves us personally. Nor 
is it, as the enemies of religion would persuade you, a blind, bigoted 
credulity, the creature and retainer of Priestcraft." He goes on to 
show that the whole framework and action of human society are 
based upon faith ; and adds, " The faith of the Gospel is something 
more than these, only as being trust in God. It is trust, as to mat- 
ters of higher concernment, and upon better warrant, and in a 
Greater and Better Being. It is a reliance on his true testimony." 
" As the great theme of this divine testimony is Christ Jesus, the 
Incarnation of God for the redemption of man, Faith cannot truly 
receive that testimony without believing on Christ." 

Of the correctness of the statements made above, as to faith, there 
can, we presume, be no doubt. Still, we must be permitted to ques- 
tion, whether the author has put the subject in its happiest light ; 
whether he has not subordinated faith in Christ to trust in God, in 
a manner not strictly accordant with the general tenor of the New 
Testament. The statement of Dr. Williams, if we understand it, is, 
that faith is trust in God ; and because the great theme of his testi- 
mony is Jesus Christ, therefore faith accepts or believes on Christ. 
Would it not be stating the faith of the Gospel more exactly to say, 
that it believes on Christ, accepts his testimony, and believes in God, 
because it cannot receive the testimony of Christ without receiving 
and confiding in Him, whose messenger and witness He was ? The 



CHRISTIAN FAITH. 235 

difference is, perhaps, mainly or nearly verbal ; yet not, we think, 
wholly devoid of practical importance. Christ, we think, should be 
presented distinctly as the centre and prime object of gospel faith ; 
and we believe that the same remark holds substantially of the faith 
of Old Testament believers. 

We have a remark or two to make on Dr. Williams's treatment 
of the second head. He assigns four reasons why the priority should 
be given to faith in the Christian system : one derived from marts 
past history, inasmuch as sin originated in unbelief; the second, 
from the nature respectively of God and man, faith being essential 
to our receiving the teachings of the Infinite mind on subjects which 
our finite reason cannot grasp ; a third, drawn from the goodness of 
God, which assigns as the initiatory element of the Christian life, 
not talents, not profound learning, but an exercise to which the child 
is as competent as the sage ; and a fourth, from marts besetting sin, 
the pride, which clings to him since the fall, and makes it " fitting 
that the mode of his acceptance before God should be one that 
allowed no occasion for boasting." These reasons are all ingenious, 
striking, and, so far as they go, just ; but, after all, are they the real 
reason why faith is made to " keep the gate of everlasting life ?" 
Has not Dr. Williams passed over the one true reason growing out 
of the nature and necessity of the case ? If we understand him, we 
suppose him to intimate that there is something in a degree arbitrary 
in the assignment of this post to faith. It was a matter of expedi- 
ency, and some other grace might have been selected thus to lead 
the choir of Christian virtues, and initiate us into the Christian life. 
It strikes us differently ; and we will, as briefly as possible, state our 
view. Man is a ruined sinner, entirely unable to redeem himself 
from the captivity of sin, or to pay the penalty of the law which he 
has broken. Under these circumstances a Substitute presents him- 
self. Jesus Christ appears, and pays the debt which the sinner has 
incurred ; submits to the penalty, and satisfies the demands of the 
law. What further is necessary ? Why, that a relation be estab- 
lished between the Substitute and him on whose behalf he appears. 
How is that relation effected ? We answer, by the sinner's accept- 
ance of Christ as his ransom and deliverer. He must believe on Him ; 



236 WILLIAM E. WILLIAMS. 

must trust in Him ; must first confide in His ability and willingness 
to perform the work required, and then must formally commit, con- 
fide his case into His hands. We grant that every Christian grace 
is in exercise in the performance of this duty ; that love must be in 
action as well as faith. But the specific form "which this great ini- 
tiatory step in the Christian life assumes, seems to us to be ne- 
cessarily that of faith; and therefore the true reason why God 
assigns the post of honor and priority to faith, is because the cir- 
cumstances of the case require it. We can scarcely doubt that this 
is substantially the view held by Dr. Williams, and that it is through 
mere inadvertence that he has failed to include it in his represen- 
tation, ji 

Henceforward we go on in entire harmony with our author. 
From the discourse on Faith we must present one extract, on the 
character of the Scriptures, as tending to expand and nourish this 
grace. 

" The growth set before our faith appears, again, from the character 
and structure of Scripture, the volume on whose testimonies faith 
fastens, and in whose rich pastures she must ever feed. God might 
have made it a book to be exhausted at one reading ; or a record of 
the Past, unavailing to the men of the Present ; or a mysterious 
outline of the Future, of little clearness or usefulness till the times 
of its fulfilment had come. Instead of this, it is a book of all times, 
full of the ancient Past, and the busy Present, and the dread or 
gorgeous Future. It has the simplest teachings interwoven inextri- 
cably with its most fathomless mysteries ; and precept, and promise, 
and threatening, and history, and parable, and psalm, so grouped 
that every taste may be gratified, and none sated and cloyed. A 
Newton, sitting down to its perusal, finds it still opening new depths 
of wonder and glory, the more prolonged and devout are his medi- 
tations upon it. The new convert, dazzled over its pages with the 
ecstasy of his new-found hope, yet cannot as deeply and ardently 
love and value it as he will do when, a gray-headed patriarch, years 
after, he turns afresh its wondrous leaves, to adore the ever-full fresh- 
ness of its lessons, and to remember all the lights it has cast upon 
his weary pathway. It is the book, not of an academic lustrum 



DISCOURSE ON VIKTTJE. 237 

only, nor of a lifetime, but of generations. As centuries have rolled 
on, this august volume has notched on their calendar new fulfilments 
of its prophecies, new illustrations of its truthfulness, and new evi- 
dences that its authorship could come from none other than the 
Former of the worlds, and the Ruler of all centuries. Now, when 
Faith is presented with such a manual, not to be mastered in weeks 
or years, but still evolving new lights to the latest studies of the 
longest lifetime, does not the character and structure of the book 
proclaim the intent of God, that Faith should not sit down content 
with present attainments, and its as yet immature strength ?" 

The next discourse is on virtue. " Add to your faith virtue." The 
author here justly and beautifully defines the character of virtue, 
which he calls " the human and terrestrial side of true piety." "He 
distinguishes it from holiness, which includes virtue, as a part in- 
cludes the whole. Virtue, on the contrary, does not include holiness, 
although in its higher and genuine sense it presupposes it, and is in- 
separable from it. 

But it is time for us to bring our article to a close. We have 
only given our readers a glimpse or two of the riches of this book. 
It is full of important lessons in practical godliness. It is rich in its 
illustration of the relations of piety to all the great problems and 
movements of society, to the manifold relations and duties of practi- 
cal life.. We believe it will be eminently useful in banishing the 
skepticism and the worldliness, which are too prevalent in the 
Church, in instructing Christians in the great duties and glorious 
prerogatives of their profession, and stimulating them to higher 
attainments in godliness. The style may be less finished, and there 
may be greater marks of haste, than in the author's previous 
occasional productions ; but it is such a work as only genius, learn- 
iug, and piety, combined in an eminent degree, could produce. We 
earnestly commend it to the careful reading and study of every de- 
vout mind. 

To the preceding article by Professor Kendrick we add such bio- 
graphical items as Dr. Williams's life, unusually barren of external 
incident, affords. 



238 WILLIAM K. WILLIAMS. 

He was born in New York city, October 14th, 1804. Here lie 
attended school ; here he passed the four years of college-life, hav- 
ing been graduated at Columbia College, when he was eighteen 
years of age ; here he studied law three years, in the office of Mr. 
Jay ; here he spent one year in the practice of law in the same 
office ; and here he has spent his ministerial life, having been in 
stalled pastor of the Amity-street Church, at the time of its forma- 
tion, in 1831. 

His prospects in law were unusually nattering, and the profession 
was relinquished from a devout consecration to a nobler work. The 
discriminating and distinguished John Jay once replied to a friend 
who casually remarked, " I understand that you have in your office 
a rather smart son of a Baptist minister :" — " My friend, there is 
not now, in the city of Xew York, a lawyer of profounder talent 
than this young "Williams." His intellect is peculiarly fitted for 
success in law. It lays hold of strong subjects, and subdues, man- 
ages, handles them, however ungovernable they may have been 
when approached by other men. His mind penetrates into the ab- 
struse recesses of dark, sombre, mystic lore, and drags forth into 
daylight the treasure buried there. He has the power, also, of 
straightening entangled questions. He finds the right end of the 
thread, loosens and unties the knots, and lays it out to the view 
of humbler intellects, with a clearness which charms and an ease 
which astonishes. We recall the main points of an incident which 
occurred in New York some years ago, strikingly illustrative of this. 
Between one of the insurance companies and some private individ- 
uals there was a certain matter of litigation of peculiar difficulty, 
and involving, we understand, about thirty thousand dollars. One 
of the judges of the Supreme Court, on being informed of the facts 
in the case, advised that it be decided by arbitration, saying that it was 
one of peculiar complexity, and would require much research and con- 
tinued application to solve it. The advice was adopted, and three 
of the best men of the city selected. One of the three happened to 
know Dr. Williams, and of his felicity in the solution of difficult 
problems. He went to him, stated the conviction of his own 
incompetence to discover the right of the case, laid before him the 



PUBLICATIONS. 



239 



documents, and requested, as a personal favor, that Dr. Williams 
would examine them. He declined, in his usually quiet but deci- 
sive manner, on the ground that he was no longer a lawyer, that he 
had forgotten what he once knew of law, and that his courses of 
thought were in totally different directions. But the arbitrator 
pressed his suit, and finally, in a state of desperation, left the papers, 
in the faint hope of an ultimate relenting on the part of the divine. 
After he was gone, Dr. Williams commenced the examination of the 
papers as a matter of curiosity, and very naturally made certain 
minutes as he read them. In a day or two the friend called again 
to renew the request. It was already granted. Those memoranda 
revealed to the delighted man the truth of the case clear as sun- 
light, and those very notes of Dr. Williams formed the sole basis 
of the decision. 

His habits have been remarkably studious and retiring from very 
infancy. When his schoolmates were at play, he would be found, 
crouched in some hidden corner, absorbed in a book. His man- 
ners have the quiet delicacy which are in harmony with such a life ; 
and yet his conversation, when unconstrained, abounds in anecdote, 
humor, illustration, quotation, description, and, indeed, in all the va- 
riety of gifts which go to produce the fascination of fireside-talk. 
In sarcasm, also, he has unusual power, but holds it under stern re- 
straint. 

Dr. Williams has published less than he ought. Besides the 
work entitled " Religious Progress," already discussed, he has pub- 
lished " Lectures on the Lord's Prayer," of great value for its unc- 
tion, religious power, and adaptation to the wants of the Christian 
heart; a volume of "Miscellanies," consisting of discourses and 



From the Preface to " Lectures on the Lord's Prayer," we make 
a brief extract : 

" How much of the stern virtue that shone serenely over the 
troubled strifes of the Commonwealth and Protectorate, and over 
the shameless profligacy and general debasement of the restored Stu- 
arts, came from the earnest study of that Prayer, only the Last Day 
can adequately show. We can see, from the space it occupies in 



240 WILLIAM E. WILLIAMS. 

Hale's volume, what share the supplication had iu his habitual and 
most sacred recollections. "We seem to recognize, — in his earnest, 
importunate deprecation of the sins from -which society held him sin- 
gularly free, and in his urgent and minute supplications for all grace 
and for those especial excellences, in which his age and land pro- 
nounced him to hare most eminently attained, — the secret of his 
immunity and his virtue. Is it fanciful or credulous to infer that, 
directly or indirectly, — in his own acquaintance personally with the 
work, or in his inherited admiration of the author's character. — our 
Washington derived his kindred excellences from Hale ; and that 
healing virtue thus streamed from the robes of the Saviour on the 
Mount, as He enunciated this form of supplication — streamed across 
wide oceans, and intervening centuries, into the heart and character 
and influence of him whom our people delight to hail as the Father 
of his Country ? 

" No human analysis can disintegrate from the virtue and free- 
dom and prosperity of modern Christendom, the proportion and 
amount of it, which is distinctly owing to the influence of this single 
supplication. 

" With these views of the past and coming influence of this Di- 
vine composition, each Christian teacher may be allowed, again and 
again, to recall the attention of his flock to such a fountain, whose 
streams have this power from God of perpetual vitality, and roll 
forth through each tract of time, then all-healing and ever-freshening 
waters, — one source of that river which ' maketh glad the city of 
God.' " 

His modesty has resisted most of the solicitations which have 
been made for a wider circulation of his sermons and essays. A 
little incident will illustrate this. At a certain meeting of an as- 
sociation of Baptist ministers, who gathered at intervals for mu- 
tual improvement and criticism, Dr. Williams was appointed to 
bring in an essay upon Theological Instruction, or the fame method 
of Theological Seminaries. At the succeeding meeting the chair- 
man alluded to the appointment, by remarking that upon such 
a difficult subject he presumed Dr. Williams had not as yet been 
able to prepare any thing, but he would like to know the pros- 



DELIVERY. 241 

pects of an essay at some future time. Dr. Williams replied by 
drawing out of his pocket some scraps of paper, saying, that 
havinor had a little leisure, more than he would have for some 
weeks, he had improved it by putting down a few imperfect 
thoughts, which, however, might be of some service as a nucleus for 
further discussion. He commenced reading, and read on. The in- 
terest of his audience, quickly awakened, grew to admiration; and 
when he had finished, words seemed inadequate to express their 
delight. Those scraps of paper he put into his pocket again, and 
never, to this day, have his brethren been able, by any argument, to 
persuade him to publish them to the world. 

In delivery, Dr. "Williams moves his body but little, and rarely 
gestures. When he does throw out his arm, it seems to have been 
an act of self forgetfulness, which he would gladly recall. This con- 
finement of manner is doubtless, in some degree, consequent upon 
near-sightedness. He frequently bows his head closely to his notes 
while speaking. 

His voice is low and gentle, with but little volume. His vocal or- 
gans are constrained, and feeble in their action. There is a certain 
peculiarity of pronunciation, united to a sad monotone of inflection, 
which strikes the stranger unpleasantly, as having the unfortunate 
appearance of affectation. That this manner is not based on the 
simplicity of naturalness is manifest, and hence it is in one sense 
affected. But that it is not affected in the sense in which the word 
is popularly employed — to imply vanity or conceit — we are confi- 
dent, since any thing of the kind is so utterly at variance with his 
character. It may have been acquired in childhood, and chargeable 
to a careless teacher ; but it is at the best a fault, and one so essen- 
tially interwoven with his delivery as to forbid all hope of its remo- 
val. It may be an affectation of manner induced by diffidence, for 
he is strangely diffident for one who has been throughout his life a 
public man. There is sometimes an excess of modesty which dwarfs 
influence, and an excess of sensitiveness which engenders groundless 
distrust. In this trait of character we detect the reason why the 
fame of Dr. Williams is not proportioned to his talents. He shuns 
promiscuous public gatherings, and is rarely, if ever, seen on the 

16 



242 WILLIAM E. WILLIAMS. 

platform at anniversaries. But while he never appears as the promi- 
nent controller of public bodies of men, his influence is never unfelt, 
and his counsel never goes unsought. In cases of difficulty or of 
peril, he is demanded as the pilot. He must be placed on important 
committees, and he must draw up difficult reports. It is at times 
like these, when a quick apprehension, an intuitive judgment, and a 
dispatch in execution are demanded, that Dr. Williams is called 
upon to act. Then he evidences his power of concentration and of 
abstraction. His reports and his digests are unsurpassed. 

Dr. Williams's interest in the education of the young is a happy 
characteristic. Ever since his entrance upon ministerial, duties, he 
has met with a class of children on Saturday, for religious instruc- 
tion. Thus has he had several generations under his special care, 
and his pupils, as they pass from beneath the influence of their loved 
pastor, ever retain the liveliest impressions of the truths he had made 
radiant to their view, and an abiding regard for one, the faithfulness 
,of whose teachings was only surpassed by the winning gentleness of 
-their presentation. The following extract manifests the earnestness 
with which he regards the young : 

" Thus, too, will you bless your children, as your fathers have ben- 
efited many of you. I see around me some whose fathers and 
mothers, wont here to worship the God of Jacob, are gone to be 
now with the patriarch and with the patriarch's God. Perhaps, 
their prayers and tears for you through weary years seemed fruitless ; 
and they went down to their graves ere you, their children, were con- 
verted. But within the veil they have heard it — they have heard it. 
It swept new melody from their harps ; and to their vision, it threw 
uew glories around the throne. So labor for your children ; even 
if, like your parents, you leave those children at your death yet unre- 
newed, to muse on the heritage of a father's prayers, and the coun- 
sels and tears of a mother ascended to the God of her salvation. 
And if here there be, as I fear there are, the prayerless children of 
praying parents, who once besought God within these walls that 
you, their Ishmaels, might live, be persuaded, my friends, to take up 
the work of prayer, which a departed parent cannot continue. 
Joshua said of the stones reared on the margin of Jordan, which 



EXTEMPORE. 243 

had heard the vows of Israel, that those stones would witness against 
them, if they forsook God. And so say I to you : the very ground 
beneath your feet, where your Christian kindred so often remembered 
you, it shall witness against you if you persevere in neglecting 
Christ. The walls, bared and blackened with fire, that once stood 
here, and that were levelled in the dust, they are, methinks, yet 
standing before God ; and all over they are covered with inscriptions 
which record how often you were warned, how often the secret tear 
here trickled for your impenitence, and the prayer went up — - God 
of mercy, have mercy on my unbelieving child.' " 

He extemporizes to a great extent, and is never unable to extem- 
porize. Such is his familiarity with language, that he does not fail 
to express readily and gracefully the thought within him. We 
may with safety say, that his best sermons have never been written. 
We may liken him to Dr. Tyng in the power of Extempore, of whose 
remarkable gift in this department of eloquence we have yet to 
speak. But in manner, he differs greatly from Dr. Tyng. The pre- 
cision of pronunciation, the downright emphasis, the apparent con- 
sciousness of power characteristic of this distinguished platform ora- 
tor, he has not. But there is more simplicity, more quiet ease, more 
unconscious grace, in the manner of Dr. Williams, while there is less 
effort, less prominence, less boldness. At his " Tuesday evening lec- 
tures" it is that his genius in extemporaneous speaking soars on the 
strongest pinion, and takes the highest flight. There, in the com- 
parative seclusion of the lecture-room, surrounded by a small circle 
of disciples, he makes his most pungent appeals, and pours forth his 
freest eloquence with the freshness of a first enthusiasm. We knew 
an Episcopal clergyman of New York, one who sedulously and suc- 
cessfully employs the best means for improvement in public speak- 
ing, who, at one time, was regularly attending Dr. Williams's Tues- 
day evening lectures, as affording the best opportunity for his own 
cultivation. 

Whoever has heard Dr. Williams in his pulpit ministrations has 
been impressed with the spirituality of his preaching. He seems 
thoroughly imbued with the truths he utters ; and he proclaims his 
divine message, not as something he has read about or heard about, 



244 WILLIAM R. WILLIAMS. 

but as something lie has himself felt and loved. His words are the 
breathings of his own lips, the outpourings of his own heart. They 
are pervaded with a seriousness which arises from a rare appreciation 
of the infinite value of the glorious Gospel. Christ is the great 
theme of his preaching, and the glowing centre of his thoughts. 

Dr. Williams has visited Europe three times : having spent about 
a year abroad before leaving the legal profession, at the close of the 
one year's practice in Mr. Jay's office ; a few months, in addition, after 
he became a pastor; and the summer of 1853, for the restoration 
of health. He has not been graduated at a Theological Seminary. 

Various efforts have been made to entice him from his beloved 
people, and place him at the head of some literary institution, or as 
professor in some department of theology ; positions which his most 
judicious friends are anxious that he should occupy, as affording the 
freest scope and greatest efficiency to his talents. But, thus far, all 
such schemes have proved unavailing. 

In this connection we quote a paragraph of a speech made by Dr. 
Bacon, at the Albany meeting of the American Board, in March : 

" In the course of this discussion yesterday, the name of President 
Wayland was mentioned as a representative of one side of the ques- 
tion. Now President Wayland — for whom I have high respect, and 
who is one of the foremost men in our country — has a theory whose 
first application is in this country ; and I really think that it can be 
applied in this country a great deal better than in India. His theory 
is, the theory of lay-preaching. Its object is to break down the divi- 
sion between the laity and the ministry. Are we not all brethren ? 
the clergy and the laity, are they not all brethren ? The theory we 
are considering is, that it is the duty of all churches, when they need 
a pastor, not to ask leave of Presbyteries or Associations whom they 
shall call, but to look to themselves, — to look at home, to look in 
their own church, and if they have a suitable man, to take him and 
make him their minister. I remember to have heard that there 
was a church in New York once in this condition, and which did 
this very thing. They looked among themselves, and they found 
there a young lawyer who possessed natural gifts and the gifts of 
grace ; they found that he could pray, and that when he was cor- 



EEV. JOHN WILLIAMS. 245 

nered he could exhort, and they took him and placed him as pastor 
over them ; and that man is Dr. William R. Williams, one of the 
brightest ornaments of the Baptist churches. He, if I am rightly- 
informed, never saw the inside of a Theological Seminary until after 
he was a pastor, when he may have gone to some seminary on a 
visiting committee or as a director. That is a good arrangement. 
It is a good system. That is my view of the case. But I say the 
system is a great deal better for this country than it is for India." 

Thus stands the brief epitome of the life of William R. Williams, 
and such are the leading traits of his character. There may be some 
who, having heard less of Dr. Williams, may attribute to this sketch 
the fault of eulogy. To such we would quote a remark made by a 
distinguished divine of the Presbyterian Church of New York, in 
the presence of a number of clergymen, on being asked, by an indi- 
vidual from abroad, for his candid opinion as to who was the greatest 
man among the clergy of New York : " If undoubted piety, unex- 
ampled humility, comprehensive scholarship, wide acquaintanceship 
with history, unusual attainments in literature, together with a re- 
fined taste and rare genius as a writer, constitute a great man, then 
William R. Williams, of the Baptist Church, is the man for whom 
you inquired." 

Dr. Williams is the son of Rev. John Williams, who was pastor 
of the Oliver-street Baptist Church for twenty-seven years, until his 
death, in 1825. He was a native of Wales, and came to this country 
in the year 1795, leaving home, kindred, and a flock of whose affec- 
tions he was entirely possessed, that his countrymen, at that time 
emigrating to this country in large numbers, might not be scattered 
from the fold of the church as " sheep having no shepherd." He 
was a man of deep and fervent piety, and of uncommon native vigor 
of mind. He labored with great zeal among his people, not only 
dispensing the bread of life with an unremitted earnestness, but also 
distributing charities to the poor from his own limited store, visiting 
the sick, comforting the afflicted, consoling the desolate. 

The following description of his character is given in his Memoir : 

"Few men equalled John Williams in the consistency of his 
Christian character, as a whole. We frequently see some one indi- 



246 WILLIAM E. WILLIAMS. 

vidual excellence carried out into glorious exercise at the expense 
and to the neglect of other virtues ; but in his character all the 
traits of true Christianity seemed to unite their beauty, without 
giving to any one feature an unseemly prominence. His zeal, was 
ardent, but united with, the greatest prudence. That prudence, 
instead of degenerating into craftiness, was accompanied by the most 
perfect simplicity; simplicity was tempered by meekness, yet his 
meekness had for its basis strong decision of character and unbend- 
ing firmness of principle. He never insulted charity by offering to 
sacrifice on her altar the truth ' as it is in Jesus,' and yet he never 
hoped to advance the cause of truth by bringing to her defence 
bigotry and intolerance. He loved the image of the Saviour wherever 
he found it, and it was not the barrier of his own sect, or the badge 
of another, that could prevent him from acknowledging his union in 
spirit with those whom the same Redeemer had purchased with the 
same blood." 

"Who will fail to recognize, in the portrait of the father, the like- 
ness of the son ! The mantle of Elijah has fallen upon Elisha. 






^*- 




*z/£&?' 





/TTy^yi^^^-^ 



CHARLES G. SOMIERS, 



"And as Jesus passed forth from thence, He saw a man sitting at the 
receipt of custom ; and He saith unto him, Follow me. And he arose and 
followed Him." 



In the midst of the newspaper offices, publishing houses, printing 
establishments, bookstores, magazine depots, and stationery shops, 
crowded into Nassau-street, once stood a plain and modest church. 
The merchant, in his chase for gain ; the editor, evolving the public 
opinion of the coming day ; the compositor, driven to his daily toil ; 
the bookseller, intent on a new edition ; the author, absorbed in a 
suggested illustration, would all readily pass this church, unconscious 
of its actuality. Yet there it stood, retiring and resigned, as if al- 
ways looking down upon the rush for Fame and Gain, more in sor- 
row than in anger ; never upbraiding, never reproaching ; only re- 
minding, by its silent presence, of higher gains, and of more endu- 
ring glories. As we passed it, it became to us the representative of 
the Christian faith, as, like that, it lived disregarded, almost un- 
known, in the midst of din and bustle, and the rushing, eddying tide 
of life ; while around its overshadowing neighbors, personating world- 
liness, there ever crowded, excited, watchful, faithful devotees. And 
then, when the Sabbath came, and the doors were gently opened, a 
few gathered for worship ; — how few compared with the great mass 
which, all the week, pressed around those loftier piles ! 

Thus repeatedly passing this quiet, acquiescent church, we felt 
impelled to turn aside, and visit it on its own day; when, per- 
chance, it might relax the settled seriousness of its expression, 
and take a happier, hopefuller view of life. When we entered, 



248 CHARLES G. SOMMEES. 

the organ was playing a familiar tune, with such a plaintive 
melody, that the music became another propelling wave to our re- 
nections. Then, when the pastor rose for prayer, and all were 
hushed in silence, and the petition was uttered with so much fer- 
vency, we felt more than ever the peculiar inspiration which had 
gathered about the place. Another interlude of subdued music, and 
the preacher read his text. He spoke with deliberation and rever- 
ence, as if it were impossible to speak otherwise in a church which 
had borne its testimony, all through, the week, in such calm and sol- 
emn quietness. Then he preached, with strong entreaties, to his 
flock, lest any one should fail of entrance into the fold of the Great 
Shepherd ; but with less of high-wrought sentence, and glowing im- 
agery, and thrilling illustration, and artistic groupings, than attaches 
to exalted oratory, as there was little of elegance or ornament or 
beauty in the surrounding architecture. Plain, unstudied, unpre- 
tending ; yet compact, well-founded, and sound was the prevailing 
style of both church and sermon. After a while we learned that 
Rev. Mr. Sommers was the preacher, and this testimony-bearing 
building his church ; that he had been preaching there, Sabbath 
after Sabbath, for twenty-seven years ; that he was universally re- 
spected, and warmly regarded ; that he was one of the long-tried la- 
borers in the vineyard, who had borne the burden and heat of the 
day : and that, in youth, he had turned aside from business, and con- 
secrated the remainder of his life to the teaching of religious truth. 
In time, we chanced to meet him ; found that his life had been a 
varied and not uneventful one ; and therefore noted, as was our 
wont, some experiences of the preacher, at the serious and overshad- 
owed church. And when we came to select our representatives of 
the American Pulpit, Mr. Sommers seemed, with most distinctness, 
to set forth the class of preachers, more especially of the Baptist de- 
nomination, who have left counter or desk or work-bench at the call 
of Heaven, and entered the pulpit ; and who are not properly included 
under the division of Pioneer Preachers, inasmuch as they became 
settled pastors, and not itinerant evangelists. But these incidents are 
not startling, though somewhat striking. They tell of integrity of 
purpose, warmth of sentiment, undiscouraged industry, and the 



THE NASSAU-STREET CHURCH. 249 

guidings of an overruling Providence. They help one to realize that 
there is in this world much of accomplishment, in the way of good- 
doing, which is not effected through distinguished oratory or remark- 
able learning or exalted genius ; and that, as in the midst of all the 
business and excitement and wear and din of Nassau-street, stood 
that quiet church ; so in this world's turmoil stand many unobtru- 
sive men, who bear their testimony, through life, for righteousness 
and God. 

But changes have come with the turn of years : the organ is 
silent ; the pulpit is gone ; the Church no longer utters its testi- 
mony against Gain and Fame ; but now, we are compelled to say, 
ills of body instead of soul are its anxiety, and on its forehead the 
following sentence is written in gilded letters, at once the flaunt of its 
degradation and the epitaph of its lost life : " Temple of Health — 
Dr. S. P. Towssend." 



EARLY LIFE. 

Charles G. Sommers was born in the city of London, in the year 
1793. His father was a Norwegian, whose birthplace was Tronheim. 
His Christian name was " Ole," a favorite one in Norway. The early 
part of his life was spent in Denmark, where he received the usual 
school instruction allotted to boys. 

It is an interesting fact that he was in Copenhagen when that city 
was bombarded by Nelson, on the eventful 2d of April, 1801. The 
day before, the English fleet, consisting of fifty-one sail of various 
descriptions, of which sixteen were ships of the line, came to an 
anchorage within two leagues of Copenhagen, off the N. W. end of 
the " Middle Ground," a shoal lying before the town, only three- 
fourths of a mile distant. In the King's Channel, between this shoal 
and the town, the Danes had arranged their line of defence, con- 
sisting of nineteen ships and floating batteries, flanked at one end 
by the Crown Batteries, works of a most formidable character, the 
largest one mounting eighty-three guns. Late in the afternoon the 
British fleet weighed anchor, doubled the farther end of the shoal, 



250 CHAELES G. SOMMERS. 

and came to anchor within two miles of the Danish batteries. Here 
these mighty battle-ships lay all night, in a foreboding silence, broken 
only by the dash of waves against their huge black sides, or by 
sound of revelry, and low murmur of preparation, which ever and 
anon issued from the open port-holes. In the British fleet it was 
a night of wild joy, and hope, and glorious anticipation of the mor- 
row's victory, with the thrilling excitement which nerves the arm 
and steels the heart of soldier and seaman, in the prospect of 
desolating contest. But the gloom of night which settled over the 
doomed city of Copenhagen was but a faint image of the fore- 
bodings shutting down so darkly on the hearts of all its desperate 
defenders. About ten o'clock on the following morning Lord Nel- 
son's ships had taken their allotted places, and at the signal opened 
their tremendous fire on the Danish armament. It was returned by 
the shot of one thousand guns, which spoke in terms, not to be mis- 
understood, of the desperate bravery with which the Danes would 
defend their native land, and of the terrible destruction through 
which the British flag must pass ere it waved in triumph over the 
citadels of Copenhagen. For more than five hours did these two 
mighty combatants, the flower of the English navy, and the concen- 
trated strength of Denmark, wage upon each other a warfare of 
magnificent bravery, but of awful carnage. At the end of that 
time the batteries of Denmark were silenced, most of her ships had 
struck, all of them were riddled, one, the Danebro, of eighty guns, 
had caught fire, and blown up, while six thousand of her brave 
sons had been taken from her. It was one of the hardest fought 
battles that Humanity has been called to mourn over. On one side 
a nation's honor, on another a nation's safety were the stakes. On 
both sides were marshalled men who knew no inspiration equal to 
that of their country's call, and paid no heed to personal safety when 
her safety was endangered. 

Young Sommers was witness of it all, in its terribleness, its havoc, 
and its magnificence. He was then only" nine years of age, but 
with the curiosity and enterprise of youth, he determined to see a 
sight which is rarely equalled. In the confusion which reigned in 
every household, he escaped from home, and making for the seaside, 



BOMBARDMENT OF COPENHAGEN. 251 

came to one of those immense cranes, seen about docks, employed 
to raise heavy timbers. It consisted of an upright beam, perhaps 
twenty feet high, with a long arm standing out from its top at an 
obtuse angle, and reaching over the water. This crane the daring 
little fellow climbed, and slipping out to the end of the arm, quietly 
surveyed the battle scene. It was a sublime sight; and if ever 
panoramist makes an attempt to represent that battle, in the fore- 
ground he should place young Sommers, his feet dangling over the 
side of the huge ship-crane, holding on with one hand, while with 
the other he swings his hat in patriotic exultation, as he sees the 
broad pennant of his countryman Nelson bearing down on the 
batteries of the enemy — his throat swelling with the shout which 
finds no hearing amid the roar of three thousand cannon, and over 
his head rolling the huge sulphuric war-cloud, that bore in its folds 
the stifled groans of thousands. "While there, he saw the ship 
Danebro, when it caught on fire, left to her fate and blown up. A 
young man, an acquaintance of Sommers, was on board of her, 
who afterwards told Sommers, as illustrating the horrors of the 
fight, that the gun at which he was stationed had been cleared three 
times before he took his stand, that he gathered up with his hands 
the broken legs, and arms, and bodies torn in piecemeal, and threw 
them into the sea, to clear a place to work in, on the encumbered 
deck ; and that he was obliged to pull off his boots that he might, 
by the roughness of his stockings, maintain a footing; so freely had 
human blood flowed on its drenched surface ! 

That evening Lord Nelson came on shore, and Sommers had a 
good sight of him. Villemoes, too, he often saw — and describes him 
as of a very modest and retiring appearance — of whom the following 
story is told by Southey : 

" A youth of seventeen, by name Villemoes, particularly distin- 
guished himself on this memorable day. He had volunteered to 
take the command of a floating battery ; which was a raft, con- 
sisting merely of a number of beams nailed together, with a floor- 
ing to support the guns : it was square, with a breastwork full of 
port-holes, and without masts, carrying twenty-four guns, and one 
hundred and twenty men. With this he got under the stern of the 



252 CHAKLES G. SOMMERS. 

Elephant, below the reach of the stem-chasers ; and, under a heavy 
fire of small arms from the marines, fought his raft, till the truce 
was announced, with such skill, as well as courage, as to excite 
Nelson's warmest admiration." 

When Lord Nelson went on shore, after the business of negoti- 
ation was transacted, he requested that Yillemoes might be intro- 
duced to him ; and, shaking hands with the youth, told the prince 
that he ought to be made an admiral. The prince replied : " If, my 
lord, I am to make all my brave officers admirals, I should have no 
captains or lieutenants in my service." 

It was six years after this, that a British fleet suddenly appeared 
offElsinore, the toll-gate city of Denmark. It amounted to nearly a 
score of line ships, a large number of frigates and gun-boats, with 
transports carrying some twenty thousand men. As they swept into 
the straits under a light wind, with all sails spread, flags and pen- 
nants and streamers flying from mastheads, bows, and sterns, 
eveiy yard throughout the whole fleet manned with seamen, Mr. 
Sommers describes it as one of the magnificent sights. And when 
the bands of eleven regiments struck up the national air, " Rule, 
Britannia, rule the wave," the effect was thrilling. With his usual 
enterprise in search of incident or information, he jumped into a 
skiff with a companion, and pulled off for the Prince of Wales, a 
ninety-eight gun ship. Going on board, he was most kindly re- 
ceived, and invited below to a repast with the officers. He frankly 
inquired where they were going with such a fleet. An officer re- 
plied, "We do not know ; sealed orders have been given us, which will 
be opened this afternoon, and we hope it is not to Copenhagen." 
But alas ! it was. That afternoon the fleet weighed anchor for that 
unfortunate city, and the next morning the booming of cannon was 
heard at Elsinore, twenty-four miles distant, and Copenhagen was 
again bombarded and taken. This attack was made under the 
command of Lord Ganibier, Sir Home Popham being the field- 
officer in command on board. It was done for the purpose of get- 
ting possession of the Danish fleet, which lay dismantled in its har- 
bor. This fleet the English Government was informed by their 
active minister abroad, Jackson, was to come into the possession of 



MERCANTILE LIFE. 253 

the French, which John Bull could not, and did not allow. The 
fleet was captured ; English sailors swarmed on board of the stripped 
vessels, rigged them, fitted them for sea in a w r eek, and the two fleets 
passed over to England. In this engagement, the enthusiasm of 
young Sommers would not allow him merely to sit quietly on the 
end of a ship-crane, but he must assist in the defence of his adopted 
country. So he joined the company which manned the old fort 
Kroneborg, whose guns swept the straits, and there played away at 
the ships as they passed. But we must leave any further descrip- 
tion of these exciting times, and turn to other incidents in the life 
of our friend, more in accordance wdth the principles he has been so 
long advocating. Suffice it to add, that these very scenes excited no 
longing for all " the pomp and circumstance of glorious war," but 
left on his youthful mind an indelible impression of its horrors ; and 
has moved a deeper earnestness in enforcing the truth of that Gos- 
pel whose motto is " Peace on earth, good-will to men." 

At the early age of ten, he was introduced into the counting-room 
of the well-known house of Mullins & Knox, at Elsinore, Denmark. 
Here he was regularly educated in the mercantile department, be- 
ing favored with training of a higher order than that vouchsafed to 
all clerks of the present day. In the first place, a youth was admit- 
ted into a mercantile house only by the most unexceptionable recom- 
mendations, both from friends and personal appearance. After his 
adoption into the house he was conducted up through all the stages 
of business, from the simple copying of correspondence to the respon- 
sible book-keeping; and then, if he had faithfully performed the 
duties of his term of service, his employer provided for him, either 
by taking him in as a partner, or setting him up in business. Such 
cases occur now-a-days, but not so generally as in the " good old 
times." 

In the year 1808, Mr. Sommers satisfactorily completed his term 
of sendee in the house of Mullins & Knox, and immediately left 
Denmark for this country. He had heard of our civil institutions, 
had become enamored of them, and looked with longing towards 
"the home of the free, and the land of the brave." He knew also 
of the energy of American character, and the boldness of American 



254 CHARLES G. SOMMERS. 

enterprise ; and both these were in harmony with his own traits. It 
was in such a land, with its free air, and among such a people, with 
their manly effort, that Sommers most wished to live and act. So 
he started off in the hopeful, spirited way which characterizes youth- 
ful undertakings. Hearing one morning, that a friend, a young 
man by the name of Ole Ronning, was on the point of starting for 
America, on board the ship Servia, bound to Providence, he packed 
up his things, hastened to the ship, and found himself under way 
that afternoon. It was not till they were out at sea, and the low outline 
of the land of his adoption had faded from his sight, that he seriously 
inquired, " What shall I do in America ? and how shall I get on ?" 
We wish nothing better for a young man than the hopeful spirit of 
young Sommers, founded upon as good a character, which straight- 
way answered, " Oh, you can do any thing that the Yankees can 
do ;" and there the matter rested. 

On her way to America, the ship visited Lisbon, and while lying 
there the passengers went on shore; but their pleasant land-spell 
was suddenly brought to a close, for couriers came with the news 
that Marshal Junot was approaching with an army of 30,000 French- 
men. The ship got quickly under way ; and as she cleared the river 
Tagus, the French entered the gates of Lisbon. 

Mr. Sommers, soon after his arrival in this country, connected 
himself with the firm of White, Brothers & Co., of New York. 
After having remained with them about a year, application was 
made to the firm for his services, by John Jacob Astor, who was 
largely engaged in the fur-trade and in the shipping interest. Mr. 
White generously advised him to accept of Mr. Astor's proposal, 
from the fact that his chances for success in mercantile life would 
be enhanced by the change, as Mr. Astor was doing such a heavy 
and profitable business. The desire of Mr. Astor to secure Sommers 
as his clerk, is evidence of the recommendation the youth ever car- 
ried with him, in his open, bright countenance and manly bearing. 
He was one of those, to whom every one seemed to " take a liking." 
Nature had blessed him with a handsome face and finished person, 
while the brightness of his eye and the bloom of his cheeks gave 
proof of the perfection of his health and the elasticity of his spirits. 



JOHN JACOB ASTOR. 255 

He had, too, an active, off-hand way of doing business, which the 
steadiest, sternest man fancies in a youth. Always wide-awake, he 
was on the alert for the advantage of his employer, when business 
demanded ; and ready for a little boyish sport, when work was done. 
He had also a kind and generous heart and gallant sentiments, 
which made him a favorite among his fellows ; while he was upright 
and pure in character. He strove to live on good terms with all, 
and ever stood ready to do a favor. His natural activity, however, 
had disinclined him to close application to books, and his ready tact 
at acquisition, and habits of observation, relieved him, in some meas- 
ure, from the necessity of confining study. In this latter particular 
he changed with the increase of years, and when the responsibilities 
of life pressed upon him, he became assiduous in literary toil. It 
was in" 1811 that he was fairly installed in the counting-house of 
Mr. Astor, the same building which now stands at the corner of 
Pearl and Pine streets. 

He had been about a year connected with this house, when it 
happened to be for Mr. Astor's interest to send a swift schooner, 
with a valuable cargo, to the Mediterranean, to run by the British 
guns at the Straits of Gibraltar, this country being then at war with 
England. It was about ten o'clock on Saturday evening, as all 
hands connected with the house were busily employed in getting 
the papers of the schooner ready, that Mr. Astor, whose desk stood 
opposite to Sommers's, suddenly looking up, and addressing him by 
his given name, said — "Well, Charles, I suppose you will come 
down to-morrow morning, and help us off with the schooner?" 
"Charles" looked up in return, but said not a word. It was a 
trying moment for him.. On the one hand, he felt that it would be 
wrong " to do any manner of work " on the Sabbath, and yet he 
was confident that a refusal in the emergency would be followed by 
his " walking-papers " on Monday. He paused but a moment, and 
replied — " Mr. Astor, I cannot come down to-morrow, for it is God's 
day, and I will do no man's work on that day." It was a trying 
moment, but great was his relief when Mr. Astor laughingly turned 
to another clerk and said — " Well, David, I'm glad we've got one 
Christian amongst us : so, Charles, you go to church to-morrow and 



256 CHARLES G. SOMMEES. 

pray for us ; and the rest of us will come down and get off the 
schooner." A week had not elapsed before Mr. Astor came to*Som- 
mers with an order that he should be ready in twelve hours for a 
two months' journey of importance. 

At the time appointed he was ready, and received letters of intro- 
duction to firms in Canada and to the officers on the line, his own 
instructions, and ten thousand dollars in money. Thus he started 
on the difficult and perilous enterprise of bringing safely to New 
York a large amount of property, in the dead of winter, and in the 
midst of the last war with England. This commerce was carried on 
in accordance with certain stipulations between the Governments. 
It was a department of business that Mr. Astor had hitherto intrusted 
to his eldest clerk ; and never would he have consigned it to Som- 
mers, who was then only nineteen, if, in addition to his usual enter- 
prise and judgment, that reply on Saturday night had not come as 
convincing proof of his integrity and independence. On his journey 
he had many narrow escapes. Once the speed of his horse saved 
him from a lurking savage, and once he was taken prisoner by the 
Indians, and carried to La Cole Mills, where General Pike not many 
hours after made an assault upon the Indian camp, with a brigade 
of the United States Army. He was soon released, however, by a 
pass from Colonel Hamilton, but was again detained by order of the 
notorious Colonel Murray. With great difficulty he at last reached 
Montreal, transacted his business, and safely escorted his valuable 
cargo to New York, within the prescribed two months. So greatly 
was Mr. Astor pleased with the execution of this commission, that 
he was getting ready another letter of instructions for an expedition 
to Mackinaw, before Mr. Sommers had hardly time to warm him- 
self; but, on proposing the plan, was met, to his astonishment, with 
a decided "No, sir, I cannot go." "And why not?" "I have 
determined, sir, to become a minister." Without a word Mr. Astor 
turned on his heel, but after Sommers had left the room, broke out 
with an imprecation, saying, " The boy's a fool. He might make a 
first-rate merchant, and he is going into the priesthood." Yes, 
it was so : our promising merchant had determined to be a 
minister. 



CROSSING THE LINE. 257 

Rarely has a young man possessed brighter prospects of wealth 
and station. He was endowed with precisely those traits which 
insure success — health, energy, perseverance, judgment, integrity, 
and winning manners. He was thoroughly educated in the mer- 
cantile department, and a favorite of his employer. But he turned 
his back upon these bright prospects. 

The truth is, that on his northern tour, he had accomplished some 
business for himself, of which Mr. Astor was ignorant, and the im- 
portance of which the millionaire, busied in plans of making money, 
could not appreciate. He had consecrated himself to the service of 
his God. At that time there stood on our Northern frontier a de- 
serted smuggler's hut, so situated that goods rolled in at one end, 
would, before reaching the other, cross the line. In this building 
Mr. S. on one night took shelter, and there kneeling in the darkness, 
but with the light of heaven in his soul, he consecrated himself to 
the work of the Gospel preacher. He crossed " the line" that lay 
between the service of God and mammon, and brought over with 
him all the enterprise, the perseverance, and the skill which would 
have made him, had he remained, "a first-rate merchant." As 
we would illustrate the first part of Sommers's life by the scene of 
the ship's crane on the beach of Copenhagen, so would we represent- 
the second part by the scene in that deserted smuggler's hut — the- 
moon stealing in between the logs — the stars looking down through 
the chinks above — and this youth of nineteen, with his pocket Bible 
lying on a broken chair near by, kneeling in the solitude, and offer- 
ing up his consecrating vow to the great Jehovah. 

It was before this time, however, that Mr. Scmmers had ex- 
perienced the change when the soul breaks the fetters of sense, 
and breathes the liberty of divine love. The circumstances con- 
nected with this change are worthy of narration. Soon after he 
came to America he was urged by a friend to hear the celebrated 
Dr. Mitchell, a Universalist preacher of New York. He went, was 
captivated by his eloquence, won by his persuasion, and embraced 
the doctrines so enticingly presented. His mind was predisposed to 
those doctrines. The propriety and purity of his habits, together 
with the partiality of friends,, had engendered in his mind a very 

17 



258 CHARLES G. SOMMEfiS. 

favorable opinion of himself, while the buoyancy of his spirits in- 
clined to a hopeful future, or at least precluded all forebodings of 
evil. He immediately entered with his usual ardor into the study 
of the subject, obtained Universalist books, pored over Universalist 
arguments, and ere long became so conversant with the principles of 
that faith, and the strong points of defence ; so well versed not only 
in the modus operandi, but also in the modus loquendi, and so fa- 
miliar with the verbal minutiae of their warfare, that he could readily 
upset any ordinary opponent in debate, and keep up a good running 
fight with the best. He therefore discussed much, and his success 
increased his confidence and inspired his zeal. While in this state 
of mind he arose one morning in his usual perfection of health, but 
was soon attacked with headache, and in consequence sent to the 
counting-house an excuse for his absence. He lay till afternoon en- 
during a pain entirely new to him, when the question was suggested 
to his mind, Is not this death ? I am ignorant of the sensations 
which accompany death- — this may be its premonition — what if it 
should be death ? What is my probable destiny beyond the grave 1 
Shall I live forever ? Am I certain of salvation ? After all, are my 
doctrines true ? There was now no opportunity for self-support by 
the overthrow of an opponent, nor for the increase of confidence by 
a successful debate. He was alone — with his conscience and his 
God. If he could have met a disputant, the rising doubt would have 
been crushed ; but now in the solitude of his chamber it went on 
increasing, and the spirit of questioning grew mightier and mightier. 
But have I not been faithful to business, and kind to my fellows, and 
loved my friends ? Am I not better than most, and approved by all ? 
Yes, the voice of conscience seemed to reply, you have been true and 
kind to man, but have you loved your God ? Ah ! that was of all 
the most searching question. Have you loved the Being who created 
you, sustained you, would redeem you; who demands the profoundest 
adoration of your being ? It was an honest hour with Sommers, 
and in the silence and solemnity of that hour his inmost heart re- 
sponded, No. Then there came up before him in fearful array, the 
sins of his past years — not dishonesty, for he had never cheated — not 
intemperance, for he had been always abstemious — not profanity, 




COMMENCES PREACHING. 259 

for he had never blasphemed — but simply, forgetfulness of God ; 
disregard of the promptings of his better nature ; conviction of 
having always lived to himself, even in his generosity, and never 
having followed in humble faith and child-like love the guidings of 
his heavenly Father. He saw it all, and in this revelation of him- 
self he felt — deeply and painfully felt, that he had no claim to that 
inheritance promised only to the sons of God. In an agony of 
penitence for the past, and of supplication for the future, he knelt in 
the presence of the Holy One. From that hour he was changed. 
Not so much in external behavior — though, perhaps, his words of 
kindness bore a more earnest tone, and his deeds of charity sought 
more secret places — but he was changed in the whole spirit and 
motive of his life. Higher objects for which to live rose up before 
him ; nobler ends for which to labor were suggested ; conscience be- 
came more authoritative ; life seemed more intense, and the future 
world appeared nearer at hand, and more full of glory. And ever 
since, the present life has been growing more earnest to him, and the 
future life still more " full of glory." 

Mr. Sommers made a public profession of religion in the Mulberry- 
street Baptist Church, and was soon licensed by the proper author- 
ity to preach. He commenced the duties of his profession by 
holding meetings in the old Almshouse, in the Park, the building 
which was burnt in the winter of 1853-4. Ere long he had 
preached in nearly all the rooms on the three floors of that build- 
ing. In this " labor of love" he was succeeded by Rev., afterwards 
Dr. Stiles Ely. From this work he went to Philadelphia, to insure 
a more thorough preparation, and studied Hebrew and Theology 
under the direction of the celebrated William Staughton, D. D. 

Having followed the course of Mr. Sommers through the leading 
incidents of his varied experience to the time when he entered upon 
the ministry ; having become somewhat acquainted with his char- 
acter, and seen that he possessed the power of accomplishing, let us 
mark what he has done during a professional career of forty years. 

In this presentation, the six years of pastoral life spent in Troy 
come first in order. He was called to the First Baptist Church in 
that city, after the completion of his studies in Philadelphia. Here 



I : \ CHARLES a. 903OCBKS. 

lie laborer! with success, ami huge nmnben were added to the 

Church. Daring his stay there, he pre? : '::v a> 

a Tillage not far from Troy, and an interesting revival of religion 

followed Ms rrhnistrations, He his emr re mre 

his connection with these two places. He removed from Troy to 

Xew York city, and was installed pastor :: the Sooth h 
Church, with which he has sin;-; maintained an anbroken ::mm:- 

tion during a period c: thircp-rmr years. Hue German 
that formerly stood in Xassau-street. near Maiiea-hme, ma 
chased for Mr. Sommers by his father-in-law. Thomas Skelding. E- . 
and his brother-in-law, Hon! John B. Yates, and the title-deed pre- 
sented to him. This gift, however, he refused. I: was in this build- 
ing that the distinguished Baron Steuben worshipped and owned a 
pew. After his death. .J: ha Jamb As::: occupied the same pew. 
This pew was an old-fashioned, aristocratic affair, quite unlike any 
thing of our day. It was square, with high posts ru nni ng up from 
each corner, from wh: :h curtains were suspended, very much 
the old-fashioned bedsteads. In these democratic days, if seme 
worth- patriarch feels inclined to take a brie: nap. he cannot draw 
any protecting curtains snugly about him. but must clc his nodding 
in the presence of the whole eongregarion. After cc cupping this 
building for four years, the s : eiety rem : we 1 : 1 the building in Nas- 
sau-street, to which reference has been made in the early part of this 
sketch. This property was also presented :: Mr. mummers, bat this, 
as well as the other, he declined. The property is worth to-day forty 
thousand dollars. 

During the whole of his pastoral charge of cms march, M: 
Sommers has conducted three services on :he Sabbath, an d :~" 
weekly conference meetings. wi:h scarcely an omission. When he 
was installed, a stipulation was made by his friends that he should 
have six weeks' vac aim each peer, but he has not availed him- 
self oi the privilege. During thirty-four years he has not left the 

:: duty. Eh had abundant 
means to go, and plenty of inducements, cat he never had the 
time. There was always some work left for him to do. And emu 
when he was sent to England as a delegate by the Canadian Educa- 



AMERICAN AND FOREIGN BIBLE SOCIETY. 261 

tion Society, the American and Foreign Bible Society, and the Bap- 
tist Home Missionary Society, he only remained just long enough 
to accomplish his mission, without allowing one additional day for 
pleasure, travelling, or sight-seeing. Not but that he was alive to 
the beauties of nature, or the magnificence of ruins, or the poetry of 
old associations, but he had not time. 

The South Baptist Church was constituted with only twelve mem- 
bers, since which, it is believed, several hundreds have become 
Christians in connection with its ministrations. Nineteen licentiates 
have gone forth from its bosom, three of whom have formed branch 
churches, among which is the First German Baptist Church in New 
York. It is well to state in this connection, that Mr. Sommers has 
performed the duties of a pastor longer to the same church than any 
Baptist minister in America now living. In this city, Drs. Spring 
and Knox only are his seniors in the pastoral service. 

Now, the faithful care of a church is usually considered full em- 
ployment for one man, sometimes for two, and when this care is 
extended during the entire year, it partakes of the arduous ; so that, 
if Mr. Sommers had done nothing more, provided he had well done 
this, he would not have been found wanting. But secondly, he was 
chosen, in 1823, one of the secretaries of the American Bible So- 
ciety, an office which is not by any means a sinecure. In this de- 
partment he served faithfully six years. At the expiration of this 
time the American and Foreign Bible Society was formed by the 
Baptist denomination, and he was chosen its first corresponding 
secretary, having been active in its establishment. In this he served 
about the same length of time as in the previous department. We 
happen to know something about the amount of labor performed by 
Mr. Sommers in connection with this society, and we speak within 
bounds when we say that it would average five hours of hard work, 
for every day of every year during the whole time. He conducted 
the whole correspondence of the society, wrote the annual reports, 
and edited the quarterly paper. Besides all this, there was a great 
amount of miscellaneous business to do, most of which came upon 
him, from his familiarity with the whole department. Besides, there 
were all the society's meetings to attend, not only the public gather- 



262 CHARLES G. SOMMERS. 

ings, but the weekly meetings for consultation, from which he has 
often gone home, with twenty and thirty letters to answer — some of 
them short business letters, others requiring deliberation, and the 
exercise of nice discernment and comprehensive judgment. Often 
has midnight found him still driving his pen in behalf of the so- 
ciety ; and after this he was very likely to run down to the post- 
office, and deliver his letters, in readiness for the morning mail. 

Thirdly, Mr. Sommers has been an active upholder of Sabbath- 
schools. He and Mr., now Eev. Joseph Griffiths, commenced the 
first Sunday-school in America, upon the plan of Kobert Eaikes, in 
July, 1810, in Division-street. This is a fact not only interesting 
in itself, but a pleasing evidence of the pioneer spirit of the man — his 
readiness to work when work was to be done, and to originate work 
where it was needed. And fourthly, Mr. Sommers was one of the 
founders of the American Baptist Home Missionary Society, and has 
been an important instrument of its success. He also participated in 
the organization of the American Baptist Triennial Convention. He 
has also labored more or less in connection with the Society for 
Meliorating the Condition of the Jews, the American Seaman's 
Friend Society, American Education Society, and Christian Alliance ; 
of all which he is a member. 

But we have yet to speak, under the fifth head, of what has prob- 
ably been the most laborious work of the life of Mr. Sommers. We 
refer to his connection with the American Tract Society. Mr. Som- 
mers was an active instrument in bringing this Society into existence ; 
nursed it in its infancy, cherished its first feeble life, guided its youth- 
ful steps, and controlled its manlier ongoings. In a public meeting 
in New York, he made a motion for its organization, and was ap- 
pointed chairman of the Committee, being associated with Arthur 
Tappan and James C. Bliss, whose duty it was to correspond with 
the Tract Society then existing at Boston, with reference to the for- 
mation of a National Society. He wrote the first letter in which the 
proposal was made, and which resulted in the absorption of the Bos- 
ton Society into the American Tract Society. He was also on tha 
Committee in connection with Arthur Tappan and William A. Hal- 
lock, to which was allotted the responsible task of drawing up a Con- 



AMERICAN TKACT SOCIETY. 263 

stitution. It was the pen of Mr. Sommers which wrote that article in 
the Constitution which gives the Society its distinctive character, and 
which has since occasioned some discussion. It reads as follows : 
" To promote in the highest degree the objects of this Society, the 
Officers and Directors shall be elected from different denominations 
of Christians ; the Publishing Committee shall contain no two mem- 
bers from the same ecclesiastical connection ; and no Tract shall be 
published to which any member of that Committee shall object." 
It will be observed that this article gives the power of veto to each 
member of the Examining Committee, and through him, as their 
representative, to each of the six denominations embraced in the 
Society. 

On the 11th of May, 1825, the Society was organized, and the 
following clergymen were chosen for the Examining Committee : 
Dr. Milnor, of the Episcopal Church ; Dr. Spring, of the Presby- 
terian ; Dr. Knox, of the Dutch Reformed ; Dr. Edwards, of the 
Congregational ; the eloquent Summerfield, of the Methodist ; and 
Mr. Sommers, of the Baptist Church. On this Committee Mr. Som- 
mers served until the annual meeting in 1849, a period of twenty- 
three years, when he tendered his resignation, and Wm. R. Wil- 
liams, D. D., was, at his request, elected to fill his place. To this 
Committee is referred all the works presented for publication by the 
Society. It has the deciding power. Each member of the Com- 
mittee privately examines the prepared work. It is then discussed 
by all in a meeting of the Committee, and voteoVupon. Now when 
it is remembered that the Society has issued one thousand four hun- 
dred and fifty publications, of which two hundred and fifty are vol- 
mes, each one of which had to be carefully examined — that many 
were examined which were rejected — and that more than two thou- 
sand publications have been sanctioned to be printed in foreign lands, 
it will be seen that the position was one of no ordinary toil. But 
to Mr. Sommers it was specially laborious. He was the only Bap- 
tist of the .Committee. He had not only to look out for heresy 
and weaknesses equally with the others, but also to guard, with 
Argus eye, any subtle attack on the peculiar tenet of his de- 
nomination. He was placed there by his sect to perform that 



264 CHARLES G. SOMMERS. 

duty ; he was amenable to them ; they trusted their interests to 
him ; and if any thing should run the gauntlet of his scrutiny, 
which militated against their views, upon him would fall the 
opprobrium. Moreover, it so happened that most of the books 
published by the Society are written by Psedo-Baptists, and hence 
every presented work had to be examined by Mr. Sommers with the 
scrutiny which an author bestows in reading " proof." And when 
we know that Mr. Sommers performed this service for twenty-three 
years without any pecuniary compensation, for which an old mem- 
ber of the Society remarked that he deserved a handsome annual 
support ; that the six years' service under the American and Foreign 
Bible Society was undertaken because no one was found who could 
afford to do it without a compensation ; that all his labor for be- 
nevolent societies has been gratuitously rendered, and accomplished 
in addition to the demands of a profession, and to the duties of a 
father, a friend, and a citizen, we may not hesitate in our encomium. 

Since reference has been made to the Tract Society, it may be 
added, as matter of history, that although not crippled in its opera- 
tions, it is at present disturbed in the long-established peace of its 
administration. " The Slavery Question," which will find its way 
into every thing in this country, whether politics, religion, or trade ; 
not leaving untouched any institution, either out of regard to its sa- 
credness, or aversion to its profaneness, or contempt for its humble- 
ness; a troublous creature wherever it goes — rending churches, 
splitting political parties, disturbing colleges, agitating benevolent 
societies, dividing families, alienating friends, dismissing ministers, 
exciting mobs, burning houses, manufacturing Sharp's rifles, elect- 
ing Presidents, disappointing aspirants, filling newspapers ; always 
restless, agitating, vital; which no pulpit or parlor seems strong 
enough to bar out ; no government able to crush it ; no organization 
prudent enough to keep out — this " Question of Slavery" has at last 
wormed its way into the precincts of the Tract Society. 

It is not proposed to describe all the sharp points which "The 
Slavery Question" presents to the Tract Society, but simply to state 
the leading feature, which is, that a demand is made upon the So- 
ciety that it shall meet this question by uttering its influential and 



SUMMARY. 265 

wide-spread voice against some of the acknowledged sins of Southern 
slavery, such as the separation of families, the withholding of the 
Bible, (fee. On the other hand, the administration of the Tract So- 
ciety are anxious to avoid a question which is so notoriously dis- 
turbing and explosive in its character, lest it should interfere with 
what is esteemed the legitimate and proper business of the Society. 
namely, the distribution of such publications of evangelical truth as 
have hitherto been distributed, in which Southern slavery is not al- 
luded to specifically. How to rid itself of the intruder is now the 
question before the Society. The administration propose to smother 
it to death. Past efforts of others in that direction, would seem to 
be discouraging. 

Mr. Sommers has been led to an extensive investigation of the 
controverted subject of Baptism ; and much time has been employed 
in defence of the distinctive tenets of the denomination, either in a 
private way, or through the public press. He has also edited a 
volume of Psalms and Hymns, and a work of three volumes, entitled 
u The Baptist Library, or Selections of Standard Baptist Writers," 
and has written a Memoir of John Stanford, D. D. 

In 1852, he received the title of Doctor of Divinity from Madison 
University. He is preaching now in the church in Hammond - 
street, formerly occupied by the Presbyterians, to which his congre- 
gation removed from Xassau-street in 1851. 

We may properly sum up the events of Dr. Sommers's professional 
life by saying, that he has accomplished the work of sixty-three 
years, — forty pastoral years, twenty-three Tract Society years, and 
twelve Bible Society years, just the years of his life. He is yet in 
sound health, and of active habits. 

We wish that those who esteem the life of a minister to be such 
an easy life would consider the facts in connection with Dr. Som- 
mers, not as unusual, for they are not so. Many a minister has 
worked as hard ; in some respects, many have worked harder ; be- 
cause Dr. Sommers has not been led to endure the exhausting expen- 
diture of nervous energy incident to the highest gift of extempore 
power, as well as to metaphysical pursuits or historical research. 
His circumstances, too, have been, by inheritance, unusually good. 



266 CHAKLES G. SOMMERS. 

But the facts may be taken as a fair representation of the work done 
by the American clergy. Doubtless there are scattered instances of 
inefficiency and negligence ; but, as a class, especially in the coun- 
try, they are the hardest-worked and poorest-paid portion of the 
community. Public sentiment is such, that they are expected to 
enlighten the ignorant, deliver Lyceum lectures, sympathize with all 
sorrows, receive all confidences, and attend all funerals, for the recom- 
pense of words, often meager at that ; while performing all preaching 
and pastoral labor for the most economical livelihood. If the princi- 
ple of the Quakers were adopted, we should have nothing to say ; 
but a " paid ministry" in theory and an unpaid one in fact, works 
badly for both parties. Either the official duties of the profession 
must be lessened, and thus the pastor have time and strength to 
make out an honest living in some secular employment, or the sal- 
aries must be increased. We doubt whether the " self-denial," in- 
sisted on for the profession, consists, in these latter days, in doing 
without books, newspapers, quarterlies, and carpets. Christian self- 
denial and ministerial consecration can be seen in a higher and truer 
sense, even more difficult and more testing, with which suitable sur- 
roundings do not interfere, and to which the rack and wheel of 
remorseless debt is not essential. 





<^ ^D 



£^l/ 



C7 



ORVILLE DEWEY, 

THE UNITARIAN PREACHER. 



" But to us there is but one God, the Father, of whom are all things, 
and we in Him ; and one Lord Jesus Christ, by whom are all things, and 
we by Him. ' ' 



Orville Dewey was born in Sheffield, Berkshire county, Mas- 
sachusetts, March 28th, 1*794. His father was a farmer, occupying 
a highly respectable position as a citizen. He gave his son all the 
advantages of education which the town afforded, and sent him, at 
the age of seventeen, to Williams College, in the same county, where 
he connected himself with the Sophomore class. 

This institution has always had a reputation, perhaps more than 
any college in New England, for exerting a marked religious influ- 
ence upon its members. It has been distinguished for the frequency of 
its Revivals. A class never graduates without coming under the 
power of one such experience. We refer to this as a suitable preface 
to an anecdote, which we are tempted to relate, as evidence of the 
esteem which Orville Dewey had won in his boyhood by manifesta- 
tion of uncommon character. 

There was living at that time in Sheffield a man who may be 
considered as the representative of a class numerous at that period — 
men of strong minds, independent views, subtle insight, and keen 
wit ; men abhorring cant, hypocrisy, and shams of all kinds ; hold- 
ing mere " book-knowledge" in slight repute ; shrewd enough to 
detect errors in the Christian system, but not to dispel them ; too 
proud to believe what was not understood, and too honest to pretend 
a belief which was not held ; and jvho thus were, as a matter of 



268 OBYILLE DEWEY. 

course, at first secretly skeptical, and at last openly infideL He was 
also a man of unusual vigor of intellect, and of remarkable mathe- 
matical genius. 

There were other men in Sheffield of kindred sentiments, whose 
habit it was to meet on every Sabbath evening at the village inn, 
where sarcastic criticism of religious subjects and of "professors" 
was not, we apprehend, strictly avoided. At such times, as indeed 
everywhere, the old man guided, inspired, and ruled. He was the 
life of the company. Temperate in his habits, he established su- 
premacy both by sobriety and by wit. 

Orville Dewey had been his pupil, in a select class, pursuing the 
higher mathematics, and had unconsciously gained a strange influ- 
ence over the independent skeptic. The sagacious insight of the 
elder detected the intellect and read the character of the younger. 
So when the young pupil was leaving for college, his aged friend, as 
he came to bid him good-bye, said, " Now, Orville, you are going to 
college, and, like all the rest of them, you 11 get converted there : 
and when you do, I want you to write me a letter and tell me all 
about it, for I can trust you" The prophecy was fulfilled, and the 
requested letter was written. The old man read it, and read it 
again. The Sabbath came, and he was at church all day, a place 
unknown to him for a score of years. The scornful jest was never 
more heard from his lips. It was evident that the picture which he 
had received, of a sincere religious experience, made a deep and 
abiding impression on him : he often spoke of it to his friends, and 
he kept the letter by him till his last sickness, which came upon him 
not long after. "With the unbending sternness of one of the olden 
time, he never frankly revealed his feelings ; but that worship which 
he had neglected, and which the infirmities of age permitted him to 
visit but little thereafter, he now urged on others, saying, " Go to 
church, not so much to hear the sermon, as to worship God." 
Who would not yield to the belief that when he passed the portals 
of the eternal world, he left all error behind, and entered that realm 
of light, where the Sun of Righteousness dispelled the darkness of 
skepticism, and the strong-winged spirit now revels through the 
heavenly expanse of illimitable yiith \ 



COLLEGE EXPERIENCES. 209 

At college Mr. Dewey took a high position ; notwithstanding that, 
during the latter part of his Junior year, he was attacked with the 
measles, which, settling in his eyes, incapacitated them for reading. 
But, undiscouraged by this, he went forward with his class, having 
all the text-books of the Senior year read to him by his room- 
mate. He was thorough in all his studies. Rhetoric he culti- 
vated with uncommon perseverance. He was critical and severe 
upon his own literary productions, revising and pruning, with a 
fidelity which gained him pre-eminence in his class, as already at- 
taining a style of classic strength and purity. In the year 1814 he 
was graduated with the highest honors of the institution, having re- 
ceived the appointment of Valedictorian. 

Mr. Dewey had been educated by a devout and loving New Eng- 
land mother, and coming under the religious influences of Williams 
College, to which reference has been made, the religious experience, 
of which he wrote to his aged master, was unusually marked and 
thorough in its character. He entered on the path of duty with the 
honesty and the energy which characterized all his undertakings. 
That path he deemed a thorny one, with few flowers to beguile, and 
few resting-places to relieve. By natural bias, or by influences 
about him, he came to regard the Christian life as one of self-denial, 
which bordered on penance, and of discipline which savored of expia- 
tion. " We are strangers and pilgrims here," was his actuating motto, 
unbalanced by its companion, " Rejoice always ; and again I say, 
Rejoice." He looked forth upon the world, and saw it as a place of 
struggle, self-denial, warfare ; in preparation for one of rest, joy, tri- 
umph. 

With this religious character he came away from college ; but as 
the affection of his eyes made reading impossible, two years elapsed 
before he entered Andover Theological Seminary to pursue his 
professional studies. A portion of this interval was spent in teach- 
ing a school in Sheffield, and the remainder in a book-store in New 
York. But at Andover, as well as during the last year at college, 
he was dependent upon a reader for his information from books. 

While at Andover he was led to investigate a religious belief, 
based upon a different philosophy from that which had swayed his 



270 OEVILLE DEWET. 

previous life, — a philosophy which we do not care here to discuss, 
but of which it is pertinent to our narrative to say so much as this, 
that it allows all pursuits which will promote true happiness or ex- 
cite innocent recreation ; and that it inculcates the use of all means 
calculated to refine or elevate. Moreover, it makes less of religious 
dogmas, less of creeds, less of intellectual belief, and more of practi- 
cal outworking benevolence — more of controlling sympathies, affec- 
tions, and impulses. This religious belief was comparatively a Dew 
thing at that time, or it was newly set forth in the form of an organ- 
ization, and newly embodied in a Church. It was the reaction in 
New England, perhaps the excessive reaction of the religious nature 
of some, against what they esteemed the undue importance demanded 
for a particular creed by the dominant Church. And hence they 
dwelt upon the assertions, that an intellectual belief was made the 
key of entrance to the Church ; that daily life inevitably dropped to 
a secondary esteem ; and that " professor of religion" had ceased to 
be a synonym for an honorable, charitable, noble, and loving man ; 
and, indeed, that, in some places, it had come to be used as a term 
of reproach, indicating a bigotry clothed in sanctimonious manner, 
consecrated by long prayers, not always disconnected from excessive 
greed and repulsive bearing, and mostly manifest in strict attendance 
upon church meetings, and the conscientious discountenancing of all 
recreations. 

In the minds of those who thus regarded the religious tendencies 
of the times, it was inevitable that a reaction should take place ; 
and those would be naturally the reflective, the genial, the loving, 
the aspiring, and the sympathetic. We are only giving the facts 
as they worked out, patent to the eyes of all. We would not be un- 
derstood as saying that recreations — a matter of comparatively slight 
importance — or that the mere undue exaltation of a creed, without 
reference to important elements of that creed, constituted all the 
disturbing and dividing forces of the religious schism of that day. 
We do not affect to touch the fundamental differences of philosophy 
in the two beliefs ; but we simply say, that here was a new view of 
religion, representing it as a life, and not a creed, — presented to one 
of great conscientiousness and practical beneficence, and earnest re- 



CHANGE OF VIEWS. 271 

ligious experience ; here was a new view of life, representing it as a 
period of healthful development, and not of harassing discipline, — 
presented to one of keen sensibilities, alive to all that is beautiful in 
nature, all that is glorious in art, all that is harmonious in music, 
all that is fascinating in literature, all that is attractive in social life ; 
here was a new faith, purporting to be free from the heavy burdens of 
established dogmas, to be more liberal, more vital, more elastic, more 
rational — presented to one whose mental independence demanded 
as a prerequisite to Belief, personal conviction rather than hereditary 
authority; whose tendencies were progressive and forth-reaching; 
whose soul was outbursting with life, and whose Faith must dwell 
in unity with Reason ; — and this new view of religion, this new view 
of life, this new faith, presented by a Channing. 



CHANGE OF VIEWS. 

He considers them. He makes them the subject of thorough inves- 
tigation. The time has come for him to exchange the discussions 
and accretions of student-life for the settled convictions and decided 
enforcements of the pulpit. But he is not ready. The season of in- 
quiries and doubts and struggles is yet upon him. He cannot appear 
before Reverend Fathers for ordination. He preaches eight months 
as an agent of the American Education Society, still cautiously feel- 
ing his way in these new paths of theology. Not fully satisfied yet ; 
with old associations, established forms of theology, and sacred 
ties binding him to the dominant faith, he announces to friends his 
indecision, and seeks in the retirement of Gloucester, a little town of 
Eastern Massachusetts, the year of quiet thought which his position 
demands. Here was a church who received him as a temporary 
pastor, after a candid explanation of his peculiar status. Here, 
isolated from friends, from outside influences, from the world, he 
worked out the problem of his religious faith, and became an Uni- 
tarian. 

In this change of sentiment and of association we have no doubt that 
he acted with the conscientiousness and disregard of consequences 



272 OKVILLE DEWEY. 

which had guided him in the previous experiences of his Christian 
life. He "was as honest and as sincere now as when in college under 
a deep sense of the infinite responsibilities of an accountable and 
immortal being — he felt the danger of all pleasure, and disregarded 
all worldly enjoyments. We know that in the change he broke 
away from all that is calculated to bind a man to wonted courses of 
action. He knew that he was approaching that which a sensitive 
mind starts quickest at — the possibility of sacrificing the good 
opinion of old friends, of class-mates, and of teachers. At that time 
the separation between the Orthodox and the Unitarian was a rift, 
broad and deep, across which no bridge of a universal Christian 
fellowship, based upon heart-sympathies, had, as yet, been thrown. 
The chasm opened between him and his friends. On one side stood 
college mates and seminary companions and teachers and relatives, 
together with brilliant prospects and promotion and support and 
competence ; and on the other stood himself — alone, literally alone. 
It was as if, at one moment, supported by ten thousand strong, mys- 
terious, social cords, and the next moment all these cut in twain, 
and the man is, to use the expressive phrase, dropped. He suffered 
from estrangement, from coldness, from rupture of correspondence, 
from aversion, as any man of strong social affections would suffer. 
And after months of this isolated life, impelled by one of those over- 
powering waves of feeling in which an ocean of past associations 
seems to concentrate its power in one breaking surge, he wrote to 
a class-mate (who afterwards became a minister of some distinction, 
and died two years ago), " Come and see me. I am all alone. I 
must have sympathy. Let us talk together once more. Come ; I 
am desolate." And received for an answer, " I cannot ; it is a crime 
worse than murder to doubt as you do." In his sermon " On the 
Character and Writings of Channing," he uses these words, in which 
we detect an allusion to personal experience : 

" It is no ordinary task to stand up against the most cherished 
religious ideas of a whole people. It involves sacrifices and trials, 
which those only who have shared in the undertaking can under- 
stand. It is one thing to be welcomed on every side ; it is another 
thing to be, on every hand, repelled with horror." 



DIJ, CHAINING. 273 

His character, as a man, and as a religions man, was not essen- 
tially changed by this change of views. It was modified in some 
measure, but only so far as would result from the wider range he 
allowed his mind. He gave time to the cultivation of a natural 
taste for the fine arts, a love for nature, and a passion for literature. 
But withal he was the same religious-minded, devout, upright 
man. Though the surface of his being had been somewhat shifted, 
the firm substrata remained unmoved. Xo influences rocked or 
started that. However much his theological views may be liked or 
disliked, no one can doubt the firm foundation of his piety. It was 
before his espousal of Unitarianism that he first heard Dr. Channing 
from the pulpit. The effect upon himself he describes in the follow- 
ing words : 

" I shall never forget the effect upon me, of the first sermon I ever 
heard from him. Shall I confess, too, that, holding then a faith 
somewhat different from his, I listened to him with a certain degree 
<>f distrust and prejudice \ These barriers, however, soon gave way ; 
and such was the effect of the simple and heart-touching truths and 
tones which fell from his lips, that it would have been a relief to 
me to have bowed my head, and to have wept without restraint, 
throughout the whole service. And yet I did not weep ; for there 
was something in that impression too solemn and deep for tears. I 
rlaim perfection for nothing human; and, perhaps, my idea of this 
kind of communication goes beyond any thing I have ever heard. 
Xo words ever realized it but those calm and solemn words of Jesus 
Christ, at which the heart stands still to listen ; and which it is 
wonderful that anybody dares ever to dilute into prolix comments. 
But certainly no preaching that I have heard has come so near, in 
this respect, to the Model in my mind — I say not irreverently, the 
great Model — as the preaching of Channing." 

If we take into view the uncommon promise which Mr. Dewey's 
academical life afforded, we shall not wonder at the sensation pro- 
duced in the religious community by the change in his views. Be- 
sides, he was already known by his preaching, having acted as an 
agent of the American Education Society in Massachusetts; and 
thus having preached in a number of Orthodox churches. The 

18 



'274: OEVILLE DEW^ZY. 

sect of his adoption rejoiced. The one of his desertion mourned. 
A few of the former boasted. A few of the latter reviled. EGs 
personal friends discussed and labored with him. These discus- 
sions he did not avoid, till they were deemed by himself and all, 
superfluous. 

After the year at Gloucester, Mr. Dewey became a temporarv 
assistant of Dr. Channing in Boston. He continued at this post for 
two years, during the second of which Dr. Channing was in I .. 
In the year 1823 he received and accepted a call to become the 
pastor of a Unitarian church in New Bedford, where he remained 
ten years. This connection was very delightful. He says ;: :: him- 
self that he felt in it a ;i satisfaction not marred by one moment's 
disagreement, nor by the altered eye of one individual, during the 
ten years' continuance of that most delicate and affecting relation- 
ship." 

During the first year at New Bedford, the ailment began from 
which he has suffered more or less ever since ; a morbid sensitive- 
-ness of brain, induced by excessive labor, at times requiring enti 
repose, and always limiting the amount of mental work. The young 
man .entering the ministerial profession is in one respect unfortunate. 
Unlike t|ie lawyer or the physician, he begins with a full practice, eve 
tissues have gardened into muscle and sinew, and experience has 
imparted its relieving facility. And this is a noteworthy re; § : n 
more young clergymen " break down" than young men of other pro- 
fessions. And at New Bedford Mr. Dewey had not only the ordinary 
burdens of a large parish, but the fact that no pastor of his denomi- 
nation lived within thirty miles, before the era of railroads, cut him 
off from the relief of exchange, so that for ten months in s. session 
he preached, without omission, in his own pulpit, B 
was tempted into other fields of labor during this first year — writing 
for the press, lecturing, pioneer work for the new denomination. & : . 
The pastoral duties, also — those of visiting the sick and the well, of 
attending funerals, of sympathizing with the aft: rejoicing 

with those who do rejoice, and weeping with those tha: weep' 1 — 
have always made heavy draughts on his vital forces, because of his 
peculiar facility in putting himself heart and soul into the experi- 



"the old world and the new." 275 

ences of others. If a child sickened, and drooped, and died, it be- 
came, as it were, his own child ; if a member of his church was be- 
reaved of a brother, he, too, was bereaved. And so a compact, vig- 
orous constitution began to give way, and it was not long ere he 
found himself incapable of brain-work on Monday during the reac- 
tion after the excitement of preaching, and then the brain-prostra- 
tion began to creep over Tuesday, and Wednesday > and Thursday, 
till it reached Saturday night, and then he stopped work and went 
to Europe; in June, 1833. There he consulted eminent physicians, 
who prescribed rest, spent a year, and was much reinvigorated. 
After his return, he published some results of his travels, in a vol- 
ume entitled " The Old World aud the New." We like this- book 
not only for its descriptions of places, things, and men, but especially 
for its reflections ; by which we do not mean the croakings over the 
dishonesty of rulers, the downfall of nations, and the destruction of 
antiques ; but we mean those thoughts, racy or reverent, serious or 
statistical, philosophical or playful, which will be suggested by any 
thing that a thoughtful man sees. We have in this book some of 
the best criticisms on painting, on music, on sculpture, on men, and 
thino-s, and places, and, more than all, views of society, of govern- 
ment, of the tendency of monarchical institutions, and of the condi- 
tion of the European people, which are sound, comprehensive, and 
deeply interesting. There is, too, a comparison of the United States 
with Europe, which, while it is greatly in our favor, cannot but 
commend itself to our intelligent neighbors abroad. Dr. Dewey, by his 
presence and his writings, has done much to impart juster views of 
the American character and of republican institutions. The follow- 
ing extract we commend to women : 

" I must add a word upon our modes of dress. With a climate 
twice as trying as that of England, we are, on this point, twice as 
negligent. Whether there is actual violence done to the form in 
the absurd attempt to make it genteel, I will not undertake to de- 
cide ; but certainly the bust of an English woman shows that it 
never was, and never could have been, subjected to those awful pro- 
cesses of girting, which must have been applied in many cases to 
produce what we see among- us. At any rate, the fearful preva- 



276 ORVILLE DEWEY. 

lence of consumption in our country is an admonition of our duty 
on this subject of dress, that ought not to be disregarded. And es- 
pecially in a country where no limits are set to fashionable imita- 
tion — where a man is very liable to mistake upon the door-step his 
domestic for his wife or daughter — this is a subject that comes home 
to every family, whether low or high, and comes, too, in the most 
palpable forms of interest — in the suffering and expense of sickness, 
and in the bitterness of bereavement. 

" But consumption and death are not the only alarming forms in 
which the subject of female health presents itself. Let any one 
look at the women of America, and, with all their far-famed deli- 
cacy and beauty, let him tell me what he thinks of them, as the 
mothers of future generations. What are the prospects of the na- 
tional constitution and health, as they are to be read in the thou- 
sands of pale faces and slender forms, unfit for the duties of mater- 
nity, which we see around us ? Let any one go with this question 
to their nurseries, and he will see the beginning of things to come. 
Let him go to the schools, and he will turn over another leaf in the 
book of prophecy. Oh ! for a sight, at home, of the beautiful 
groups of children that are constantly seen in England, with their 
rosy cheeks and robust frames !" 

Much truth is expressed in the following criticism on the union 
of Church and State : 

" But it is not enough to say, that religion does not want the 
State ; it is injured by the State. It always suffers from its union 
with the State. State patronage tends to give religion a mercenary 
and a mechanical character. Religion is liable to lose something of 
its vital character, when it is made to depend on a compulsory sup- 
port. And it ceases, moreover, to be a common interest, when its 
affairs are managed, when its institutions are regulated, and its offi- 
cers are appointed, by a few." 

Read the following description of sea-sickness : 

" I wonder that nobody has talked, or written, or sung, or satir- 
ized, about this horrible discomfort of a sea-voyage. It is said that 
Cato repented only of three things during his life — ' to have gone 
by sea when he could go by land, to have passed a day inactive, 



LOWELL LECTURES. 277 

and to have told a secret to his wife.' I will not discuss the other 
points with the old stoic, but with the first I certainly have the 
most perfect sympathy. It is not sea-sickness ; I have had none of 
that ; but it is a sickness of the sea, which has never, that I know, 
been described. It is a tremendous ennui, a complete inaptitude to 
all enjoyment, a total inability to be pleased with any thing. Noth- 
ing is agreeable — neither eating nor drinking, nor walking nor talk- 
ing, nor reading nor writing ; nor even is going to sleep an agreeable 
process, and waking is perfect misery. I am speaking of my own 
experience, it is true, and others find a happier fortune upon the sea; 
but, I believe that it is the experience of a class, not much less un- 
happy than the most miserable victims of sea-sickness." 

On his return from Europe, he was settled over " The Second 
Congregational Unitarian Society" of New York, which at present 
worships in " The Church of the Messiah," in Broadway. 

In 1842 he again went abroad for his health, taking his family 
with him, consisting of his wife, two daughters, and one son. He 
passed two years in France, Italy, Switzerland, and England. 

On his return from Europe, Dr. Dewey resumed his duties in the 
Church of the Messiah ; but his health again failing, his connection 
with it was dissolved in 1848. Since that time he has been preach- 
ing occasionally: one winter in Albany, for the upbuilding of a 
Unitarian Society there ; two winters in Washington, and now and 
then in New York and Boston. He has written, also, two courses of 
lectures for the Lowell Institute, in Boston : one on the " Problem 
of Human Life and Destiny ;" the other on the " Education of the 
Human Race." The first course was delivered, with marked ac- 
ceptance, in Boston ; twice in New York ; in Brooklyn, New Bedford, 
Baltimore, Washington, Charleston, St. Louis, Louisville, Nashville, 
Madison, Cincinnati, and Sheffield. The second course was deliv- 
ered first at the Lowell Institute, in the latter part of 1855. The 
first course has been so generally discussed, that we forbear to add 
our mite. The second course is, perhaps, of a more popular cast, 
presenting the effective instruments in the education of the race, as 
well as what the education consists in. This, of course, leads on to 
biography and criticism of character, in which Dr. Dewey succeeds 



278 ORVILLE DEWEY. 

in producing the happiest effect, as well as profound impression. 
Moses as the lawgiver ; Paul as the preacher ; Scott and Thackeray 
and Carlyle and others as authors ; together with representative art- 
ists, are portrayed with the power of a generous appreciation. The 
lecture on Paul the Preacher is the masterpiece of the course ; for 
in this the sympathies of a life-work were the inspiration. 

One of this course of lectures is entitled " Liberty," which Dr. 
Dewey closes with these words : 

" Liberty, gentlemen, is a solemn thing — a welcome, a joyous, a 
glorious thing, if you please ; but it is a solemn thing. A free peo- 
ple must be a thoughtful people. The subjects of a despot may be 
reckless — and gay if they can. A free people must be serious ; for 
it has to do the greatest thing that ever was done in the world — to 
govern itself. That hour in human life is most serious, when it 
passes from parental control, into free manhood ; then must the man 
bind the righteous law upon himself, more strongly than ever father 
or mother bound it upon him. And when a people leaves the lead- 
ing-strings of prescriptive authority, and enters upon the ground of 
freedom, that ground must be fenced with law ; it must be tilled 
with wisdom ; it must be hallowed with prayer. The tribunal of 
justice, the free school, the holy Church, must be built there, to in- 
trench, to defend, and to keep the sacred heritage. 

" Liberty, I repeat, is a solemn thing. The world, up to this time, 
has regarded it as a boon — not as a bond. And there is nothing, I 
seriously believe, in the present crisis of human affairs — there is no 
point in the great human welfare, on which men's ideas so much 
need to be cleared up — to be advanced — to be raised to a higher 
standard, as this grand and terrible responsibility of freedom. 

" In the universe there is no trust so awful as moral freedom ; and 
all good civil freedom depends upon the use of that. But look at it. 
Around every human, every rational being, is drawn a circle ; the 
space within is cleared from all obstruction, or, at least, from all co- 
ercion ; it is sacred to the being himself who stands there ; it is 
secured and consecrated to his own responsibility. May I say it — 
God himself does not penetrate there with any absolute, any coercive 
power ! He compels the winds and waves to obey Him ; He com- 



COMPROMISE MEASURES. 279 

pels animal instincts to obey Him ; but He does not compel man to 
obey. That sphere He leaves free ; He brings influences to bear upon 
it ; but the last, final, solemn, infinite question between right and 
wrong, He leaves to man himself. Ah ! instead of madly delighting 
in his freedom, I could imagine a man to protest, to complain, to 
tremble that such a tremendous prerogative is accorded to him. 
But it is accorded to him ; and nothing but willing obedience can 
discharge that solemn trust ; nothing but a heroism greater than 
that which fights battles, and pours out its blood on its country's al- 
tar — the heroism of self-renunciation and self-control. Come that 
liberty ! I invoke it with all the ardor of the poets and orators of 
freedom ; with Spenser and Milton, with Hampden and Sydney, with 
Rienzi and Dante, with Hamilton and Washington, I invoke it. 
Come that liberty ! — come none that does not lead to that ! Come 
the liberty, that shall strike off every chain, not only of iron and 
iron-law, but of painful constriction, of fear, of enslaving passion, of 
mad self-will ; the liberty of perfect truth and love, of holy faith and 
<jlad obedience ! 

1 He is a freeman whom the truth makes free ; 
And all are slaves beside.' " 

This extract presents Dr. Dewey's position on a familiar subject, 
but one which, in this day, and in every day, has excited, all will 
allow, not a little attention. A few years ago, in the " Compromise 
Times," as they are called, Dr. Dewey declared himself in favor of 
what will always be recognized in our national history as the " Com- 
promise Measures." His position was not in accordance with the 
convictions of many leading clergymen of his denomination, and 
not in accordance with what is now the expressed popular sentiment 
of the North, and with what was then the suppressed popular senti- 
ment of the North. He was, in consequence, subjected to more or 
less criticism, which, in most cases, was respectful and legitimate, 
but in some cases was vituperative and unjust* He was charged 
with saying, in a public speech, not only that he would sustain the 
Fugitive Slave Law, but also that he would send his mother into 
Southern slavery, rather than see the Union of these United States 



280 ORVILLE DEWEY. 

destroyed. And it is presumed that Theodore Parker, of Boston , 
would have no objection to be mentioned as one of the persons who 
took occasion to give circulation to this story. It is suitable, in this 
matter, which at the time excited much comment, that Dr. Dewey 
should be heard in his own defence. 

In a lecture before the Boston Mercantile Library Association, in 
1854, after expressing in the strongest terms his aversion to the slave 
system, Dr. Dewey proceeded thus : 

" Gentlemen, six years ago I addressed you on this subject, and I 
said nothing then at variance with what I say now. But ever since 
that time, I have been traduced by certain persons with the charge 
of saying that I would consign my most venerable relative to slavery 
to save the Union — or, as they say, to sustain the present fugitive 
slave bill — a bill of which I did not say any thing ; and I am per- 
fectly at liberty, in consistence with my own declarations, to detest 
this fugitive slave bill, and all fugitive slave bills — which I heartily 
do. But to the charge : I understand that those who bring it say 
that it can be proved ; because some persons — one or two, I think, 
out of two or three thousand — are ready to testify that they heard 
me speak the offensive words. Give me your patience for one mo- 
ment, and let me possess my own. If any person professing to be my 
friend should bring this argument — if any such person could believe 
me capable of an indecorum so irreverent, gross, and unnecessary — 
I should simply turn my back upon him, and say not a word. But 
to an enemy or an honest defamer, I would say — just look at it ; 
here am I, a sincere and respectable person (I hope I may say that). 
and I simply aver that I never uttered those words that you charge 
me with speaking — being, indeed, totally incapable of it — as much 
as I am of profane swearing. Here, too, are the manuscripts of my 
printed lecture, and my printed speech at Pittsfield, containing no 
such words as you allege. And here, too, is the natural liability of 
any man's ear, to mistake the word brother for mother ; and yet you 
have maintained your charge ; you have invaded the sanctuary and 
holiest shrine of private affection; you have rolled this lie, as a 
sweet morsel, under your tongues, for six years ! Have such men 
mothers ? 



CHARACTER. 281 

" Gentlemen, I hope you will pardon this allusion to myself. It 
is almost forced from me by the circumstance that the last time I 
addressed you, I gave utterance to the sentiment which has been so 
perseveringly misrepresented — which sentiment was expressed in 
these words. Casting in my lot with the African man — applying no 
argument to him which I would not bring home to myself, I said, 
' I would consent' — for I did not speak of sending anybody into 
slavery ; ' I would consent that my own brother, my own son, should 
go into slavery — ten times rather would I go myself, than that this 
Union should perish for me or mine ;' and I believe you will feel, 
that if I could have saved this Union from being rent in pieces by 
becoming a slave, no bosom in all this continent, or the world, would 
have been filled with such joy as mine. And I think you will agree 
with me, that when, for what I then, said and you approved, such 
unrelenting slander has attempted to fix upon me the character of a 
violent and vulgar brawler for the Fugitive Slave Law, I have a 
right to repel it, and before you to repel it, in somewhat indignant 
and decisive terms." 

Having thus sketched the life of Dr. Dewey up to the present 
time, we will close with a brief criticism. 

We could not w r rite of Dr. Dewey as the man in distinction from 
Dr. Dewey as the religious man ; because it is true of him, that 
religion is a part of his life ; that it enters in as an element of his 
character, and as a living principle of his being. It is with him no 
external affair, put on and off like the dress — a mere protection to 
the individual, not a part of him ; but it has been taken into his 
soul, and like the absorption, of food by the body, it has become, by 
spiritual digestion, a component part of his spiritual organization. 
He believes and teaches that man can and must make this matter 
of piety and morality, of love to God and love to man, the controlling, 
actuating principle of every-day life ; of a life however obscure, and 
of actions how r ever humble. Hence we should say that this was a 
characteristic of his preaching, namely, the enforcement of piety as 
a life, not as a creed — not as an outward garment, not as a sesame 
at the gate of heaven ; but as a life, a vital motion, a principle, as 
something to live by as well as to die by. He interweaves religious 



2S2 OEYILLE DEWEY. 

duty and daily concerns ; and the hearer is impressed with the obli- 
gation of becoming, not so much a " churchman," or a "professor," or 
an "exhorter" as of becoming a religious man — relio-ious in thoughts, 
in affections, in tastes, in amusements, in business — religious in the 
whole being and in all doing. Hence he exerts an influence towards 
the disregard of factitious circumstances, such as rank, wealth, fashion, 
intellectual power, personal beauty, or the lack of any of these ; in 
comparison with the essentials of a sincere, upright, earnest character, 
working out in a faithful, honest, pure, and loving life. 

In conversation, a person of Dr. Dewey's thought and culture can- 
not but be attractive, if he give freedom to his thoughts and play to 
his fancy. This he does to an unusual degree. He is one of the 
best conversationists, maintaining lively chat of anecdote, illustra- 
tion, and repartee, with a vein of sound sense constantly revealing 
itself, and an underlying strata of philosophical and religious thought 
ever cropping out. 

In person, Dr. Dewey is of medium height, with a well-compacted 
body, surmounted by a head quite too large to be proportioned ; 
with a full, high, and broad forehead; with dark, short, undirected 
hair ; and a large, flexible, expressive, and homely mouth. 

Dr. Dewey's style is the result of severe discipline, and one diffi- 
cult of attainment. It is both ornate and chaste. It is not so likely 
to win the applause of the many ; but it finds its way to an aristoc- 
racy of mincl on terms of confidence. It has a nobility of air, which 
marks it as of a privileged order. He illustrates, more than is usual 
perhaps, by reference to personal experience, to something seen or 
heard, or. in some cases, to the progress of thought-development in 
his own mind ; yet all such references are made in the same cultivated 
manner, which does not partake of conversational familiarity. Take 
the following as a brief specimen : 

" I have seen one die : she was beautiful ; and beautiful were the 
ministries of life that were given her to fulfil. Angelic loveliness 
enrobed her ; and a grace, as if it were caught from heaven, breathed in 
every tone, hallowed every affection, shone in every action, invested 
as a halo her whole existence, and made it a light and blessing, 
a charm and a vision of gladness, to all around her : but she died ! 



DISCOURSES. 283 

Friendship, and love, and parental fondness, and infant weakness, 
stretched out their hand to save her ; but they could not save her ; 
and she died ! What ! did all that loveliness die ? Is there no land 
of the blessed and the lovely ones for such to live in ? Forbid it, 
reason ! — religion ! — bereaved affection, and undying love ! forbid the 
thought ! It cannot be that such die, in God's counsel, who live, 
even in frail human memory, forever !" 

All, except his late writings, are bound in one volume, published 
at London in 1844.* It is a closely-printed octavo of nearly nine 
hundred pages. In it come first, " Discourses on Various Subjects," 
on " Human Nature," on " Religious Sensibility," on " The Voices of 
the Dead," &c, &c. Then follow, " Moral Views on Commerce, So- 
ciety, and Politics," on " The Moral End of Business," on " Associa- 
tions," on " The Moral Evils to which American Society is Exposed," 
on " War," on " The Blessing of Freedom," &c. Here one will find 
a thorough philosophical view of the relation which business and 
labor hold to man as a spiritual being, and of the moral ends accom- 
plished by these mighty ordinances of commerce, society, and poli- 
tics ; and their real evils are presented graphically and the reme- 
dies set forth encouragingly. These social questions are discussed 
with candor, thoroughness, and practical sense. 

We next have, " Discourses on Human Life," on " The Moral Sig- 
nificance of Life," on " The Miseries of Life," on " The Religion of 
Life," on "The Problem of Life Resolved in the Life of Christ," on "The 
Call of Humanity, and the Answer to It," &c. These are more re- 
ligious in their character than the preceding. They set forth the 
connection between religion and morality, and the importance of 
religion as a living principle, exemplifying the prominent traits in 
Dr. Dewey's character and teachings. We call attention to the fol- 
lowing extracts taken from different discourses : 

" Life, then, we repeat, is what we make it, and the world is what 
we make it. Life, that is to say, takes its coloring from our own 



* These Discourses mentioned, together with some others not contained in 
the London edition, and articles from Eeviews not before printed, are published 
by C. S. Francis &' Co., New York, in three volumes, duodecimo. 



284: ORVILLE DEWEY. 

minds ; the world, as the scene of our welfare or woe, is, so to 
speak, moulded in the bosom of human experience. The archetypes, 
the ideal forms of things without — if not, as some philosophers have 
said, in a metaphysical sense, yet in a moral sense — they exist with- 
in us. The world is the mirror of the soul. Life is the history, not 
of outward events — not of outward events chiefly — but life, human 
life, is the histoiy of a mind. To the pure, all things are pure ; to 
the joyous, all things are joyous ; to the gloomy, all things are 
gloomy ; to the good, all things are good ; to the bad, all things are 
bad. The world is nothing but a mass of materials, subject to a 

great moral experiment. The human breast is the laboratory." 
* % % * % * 

" The distinctions of life, too, are mostly factitious, the work of 
art, and man's device. They are man's gifts, rather than God's gifts ; 
and for that reason I would esteem them less. They are fluctuating 
also, and therefore attract notice, but on that account, too, are less 
valuable. They are palpable to the senses, attended with noise and 
show, and therefore likely to be over-estimated ; while those vast 
benefits which all share, and which are always the same, which come 
in the ordinary course of things, which do not disturb the ordinary 
and even tenor of life, pass by unheeded. The resounding chariot, 
as H rolls on with princely state and magnificence, is gazed upon 
with admiration, and perhaps with envy. But morning comes forth 
in the east, and from his glorious chariot-wheels scatters light over 
the heavens, and spreads life and beauty through the world : morn- 
ing after morning comes, and noontide sets its throne in the southern 
sky, and the day finishes its splendid revolution in heaven, without 
exciting, perhaps, a comment or a reflection." * * 

" Life is a finely-attempered, and, at the same time, a very trying 
school. It is finely attempered ; that is, it is carefully adjusted, in all 
its arrangements and tasks, to man's powers and passions. There is 
no extravagance in its teachings ; nothing is done for the sake of 
present effect. It excites man, but it does not excite him too much. 
Indeed, so carefully adjusted are all things to this raging love of ex- 
citement, so admirably fitted to hold this passion in check, and to 
attemper all tilings to what man can bear, that I cannot help seeing 



DISCOURSES. 285 

in this feature of life, intrinsic and wonderful evidence of a wise and 
overruling Order. Men often complain that life is dull, tame, and 
drudging. But how unwisely were it arranged, if it were all one 
gala-day of enjoyment or transport ! And when men make their 
own schools of too much excitement, their parties, controversies, asso- 
ciations, and enterprises, how soon do the heavy realities of life 
fasten upon the chariot- wheels of success when they are ready to take 
fire, and hold them back to a moderated movement !" * * * 

" It is our inordinate self-seeking, self-considering, that is ever a 
stumbling-block in our way. It is this which spreads questions, 
snares, difficulties, around us. It is this that darkens the very ways 
of Providence to us, and makes the world a less happy world to us 
than it might be. There is one thought that could take us out from 
all these difficulties, but we cannot think it. There is one clue from 
the labyrinth ; there is one solution of this struggling philosophy of 
life within us ; it is found in that Gospel, that life of Jesus, with 
which we have, alas ! but little deep heart-acquaintance. Even- 
one must know that if he could be elevated to that self-forgetting 
simplicity and disinterestedness, he would be relieved from more 
than half of the inmost trials of his bosom. What, then, can be done 
for us, but that we be directed, and that, too, in a concern as 
solemn as our deepest wisdom and welfare, to the Gospel of Christ ? 
' In Him was life ; and the life was the light of men.' " 

Next follow fifteen discourses in defence of Unitarianism. In 
these is probably comprised the ablest and fullest argument in 
defence of that faith. In this volume is also included "The 
Old AYorld and the New" at which we have already glanced. 
We would direct attention to the remarks scattered through Dr. 
Dewey's works on Amusements and Recreations, both national and 
individual. He approves of their extensive use, as calculated to 
refine and develop — nay, he deems them essential as meeting a want 
of our nature, which cannot be left unsatisfied without detriment 
to character. We commend these views to all. The subject of 
Amusements is of interest, and here it will be found to be candidly 
and philosophically discussed. The volume closes with " Miscella- 
neous Discourses and Essays," among which appear his dedication 



286 OEVXLLE PEV7ZT, 

sermon :: :"_r Cburfch of the Messiah, and a discourse on "the 
Character and Writings of Dr. Channing" which we consider his 
masterpieces. The form-: aets forth the true object and aim of the 
pulpit as me rarely sees them set forth. 

The eology of Channing is remarkable, not only as a beautiful 

B [Jon, bat . minatmg analysis of character. 

To him who was blessed with the friendship of the original, how life- 

Kk : seems :Lr pa :■: ore ! The touches have the delicacy of a master's 

skill, so exquisitely finished that they thrill the soul like strains of 

z-i-us music. 

And, lastly, we some to a treatise on American Morals and 
Manners, in which are discussed with candor and ability the sub- 
jects :: Repudiation, Slavery, the effects :: Democratic Institutions, 
Hi 3 treatise appears to have been written with special reference 
to the enlightenmei.: :: Europeans. The views commend them- 
selves k the good sense of all. Our national character would be 
elevji: : . I y saeh a reading. TVe should not only be more proud of 
our birth: :_'_:. the boon A liberty, and more patriotic, but also 
more jealous of onr country's honor, and more devoted to her 
advancement. 

Dr. Dewey is an :::.:::, though belonging rather to the ancient 
than the modern schooL A popular orator of the present day must 
be more impetuous, fiery, noisy, flashing, nervous, than Dr. Dewey 
:s. ^Ve have such in the pulpit, at the bar, in the hall, on the 
stamp, hat they are jflEen leclaimers rather than orators. The 
1 most possess dignity, yet without pomposity; ease, without 
slo? :- umess : 1 i ; b d a - ; : : style, without inflation ; simplicity, without 
abnr:" i^s : power, with ml commotion; earnestness^ without haste ; 
he must be impassioned, but not passionate : roused, but not vehe- 
ment : m-going, but not impetuous. Such an orator is Dr. Dewey. 
His ziplete and rounded, yet rilled by the 

thought: the viiriety is _.-.-. yet a symmetry prevails; and in 
general we find that harmony between the thoughts and their form, 
which sh : tways obtain. Some excel in style, but lack thought ; 

others are rich mti . tyle ; some use word- 

the ear merely: oti - rd all grace and melody. Dr. Dewey 



PULPIT STYLE. 287 

combines the two. It is doubtful whether the name of Saxon or 
Roman would apply to his style. Artistic and scholarly it cer- 
tainly is. His imagination is rich, but not superfluous ; ready, but 
not obtrusive. It takes not the lead of truth, but waits on her as a 
handmaid. It flies, but not to weariness ; soars, but does not strain 
its flight. Granting that the object of oratory is to arouse and 
move, we believe that the form and mode of appeal are essential ele- 
ments and grounds of criticism. The effect should be produced 
through the avenues, not of the passions or lower sensibilities, or 
any emotions based on self-interest, but through reason and con- 
science ; through those high and noble sensibilities which belong to 
us as spiritual and not animal beings. Such, we think, is the pecu- 
liar feature of ancient oratory. We find no descent to the low and 
sensual. Those ancient princes among the nobility of intellect ex- 
pected to meet their hearers on their own high ground, and in their 
own pure atmosphere. Such a position we believe it is which Dr. 
Dewey holds. 

Every church has its own peculiar atmosphere. We mean, of 
course, its mental or spiritual atmosphere, which is often perceptible 
even to the stranger. This is to be attributed in part, no doubt, to 
the combination of effects upon the senses, from various causes, such 
as the architecture, the music, the appearance of the worshippers, 
their dress, and deportment ; but above all, from the Preacher, in the 
expression of his face, in his whole manner and bearing, and espe- 
cially in his voice. He it is who most of all decides the charactei 
of this general impression, and his presence seems at times to per- 
vade the place, and to affect one's very thoughts and emotions. 

In some churches, the chief elements are confusion, noise, disor- 
der ; in others, seriousness and repose, harmonizing with the spirit 
of true worship. In some the spirit of form rules, and one feels 
chilled and petrified ; in some, ignorance, rant, and superstition pre- 
vail ; in some/sectariauism and bigotry ; in some, pride, fashion, and 
worldliness ; while in others, the happy opposites of these appear. 

When Dr. Dewey appears in the pulpit, one feels that an earn- 
est, devout, thoughtful man is to speak. There is no restlessness, 
no unnecessary shifting and arranging, no sudden angular move- 



288 ORVILLE DEWEY. 

merits, no commotion, no hurry. But in prayer one receives the 
full impression of these traits. There is no profane rushing to the 
act, no cant, no prayer to the audience, no shouting as if God were 
indeed " a God afar off ;" but one feels that the Deity is approached 
by a finite creature, and not by an equal, whom humility and sin- 
cerity best become. There is that union of adoration, fear, trust, 
petition, confession, and those marks of earnest, collected thought, 
which are the necessary elements of true prayer. As agreeing with, 
and in part conducing to this effect, we may speak here of his voice, 
the superiority of which is most evident in this sublime act. It is 
then a deep orotund, some degree of which so naturally and almost 
necessarily accompanies the expression of the solemn and religious. 
One rarely hears a voice so low and deep-toned, and so in harmony 
with the worshipping, imploring heart. The spirit of adoration, and 
of earnest, dignified, intelligent worship, pervades his ministrations. 

The philosophical cast of Dr. Dewey's mind is seen even in his 
lightest writings and ordinary conversation. He may be humorous 
and jovial, yet the undercurrent of philosophical thought plainly in- 
fluences and guides. He often expresses the choicest thoughts in 
the garb of the merest pleasantry. As we see the truthfulness of 
the man in his sermons, so do we see in them his philosophy. It is 
seen in the control exercised by reason ; in a freedom from wild 
fancy, contradictions, one-sidedness, exaggeration ; in a comprehen- 
siveness of view, and a looking beyond the fences of party, and sect, 
and age, and condition, which reason so imperatively demands. 
The philosopher is seen also in a warm, ever-present sympathy with 
man, and an intimate knowledge of him in his inner life. The 
active, true humanity in him finds it in others. It is the great end 
of philosophy to unfold humanity to itself, to redeem it from its 
ignorance and debasement, to bring it forth from the darkness and 
delusive shadows of its cave to the air and light, to arouse it from 
its deep and fatal sleep to a glorious and saving consciousness. Some 
may say that this is the end of religion, but we cannot separate 
these. Religion is the highest form, the consummation of philos- 
ophy. 






FREDERICK D. HUNTINGTON. 



And ye are Christ's : and Christ is God's." 



It is a matter of regret that circumstances have prevented the 
preparation of a criticism and biography of Professor Huntington, 
which, in its fulness, should meet the reasonable demands of the 
reader ; but we trust that the following description, though imper- 
fect, will mitigate disappointment, or at least be accepted as the 
evidence of an unfulfilled desire. 

F. D. Huntington was bora in Hadley, Massachusetts, May 28, 
1819, and is the son of a distinguished clergyman residing in that 
place. Hon. Charles P. Huntington, of Northampton, one of the 
ablest lawyers of Massachusetts, remarkable for culture, manliness, 
and effective eloquence, is his brother. 

Mr. Huntington entered Amherst College in 1835, and was grad- 
uated in 1839, with the first honors of the class. His valedictory 
made a marked impression by its vigorous thought, and brilliant 
rhetoric. His class is regarded as including more young men, re- 
markable for talent or genius^ than almost any previous one. Pro- 
fessor Huntington ; Dr. R. S. Storrs, Jr., of Brooklyn ; and Rev. 
X. A. Hewit, of the Catholic Church, have already become distin- 
guished. Several of rich promise have died ; among whom we might 
mention J. H. Bancroft, of Boston, who had a singularly poetical and 
fruitful mind ; and G. Sumner, of Detroit, who possessed the highest 
order of legal ability. Rev. N". A. Hewit, the son of Rev. Dr. 
Hewit of Bridgeport, Connecticut, is now one of the most promi- 
nent preachers in the Roman Catholic Church. He belongs to 
the German monastic order of Redemptorists, who spend six months 

19 



290 FREDERICK D. HUNTINGTON. 

of the year in seclusion, and six in itinerant preaching, thus emula- 
ting the Methodists in their peculiar excellence. 

Mr. Huntington was graduated at the Cambridge Divinity School 
in 1842, and immediately invited to the pastoral charge of the 
South Congregational Church of Boston, and was ordained on the 
nineteenth of October. Here he remained until elected in 1855, 
"Preacher to the Cambridge University, and Professor of Chris- 
tian Morals." His relations to his Church were of the happiest 
and closest, and the separation a sad one for both pastor and 
people. 

A writer in a Boston paper says, " Mr. Huntington's manner in 
the pulpit is such as to command attention. He combines dignity 
with grace, and a certain loftiness of demeanor. Every thing he 
says is impressed with the thoughtfulness of an earnest man, and 
seems a direct expression of the soul. He infuses himself into all 
his discourses, uniting also to this, earnestness of sentiment and a 
vigorous and buoyant rhetoric. He is peculiarly clear and forcible in 
expression, and never leaves the hearer in doubt as to his meaning. 
There is remarkable vitality and strength in his compositions. The 
tones of his voice are full, firm, smooth, of large compass, and skil- 
fully modulated. Naturally rich and generous, he has submitted it 
to a severe culture. Hence it has become flexible, obedient, and 
musical. The conformation of his forehead gives token of strong 
intellectual powers, while the whole structure of his head is that of 
a firm, stalwart, valiant man. His countenance is indicative of great 
humanity, manliness, and dignity. In person he is of medium size, 
robust frame, and fine muscular development." 

Another writer says : " No one can hear Mr. Huntington speak, 
and forget the impressiveness of his manner, and the excellence of 
his elocution. He has a finely modulated, deep-toned, and rich 
voice, which has been carefully cultivated. His countenance is full 
of benignity, reminding one of the remark concerning the late Presi- 
dent Kirkland, that ' his face was a benediction.' He is one of the 
best of readers. Indeed, the Scriptures, as he reads them, are the 
best of all sermons, for the hearer has both the letter and the 
spirit." 



LETTER BY C. L. BRACE. 291 

The following description is taken from a letter Tfritten by Rev. 
C. L. Brace : 

" On Sunday I had the pleasure, at the College Chapel, of hearing 
two sermons from Rev. Dr. Huntington, professor and chaplain of 
the college. 

" They were sermons, from which one w T ould come away, not so 
much thinking of the speaker or his powers, as profoundly solem- 
nized and impressed. 

" The morning address was on the wish ' to die the death of the 
righteous.' He took up the aspiration, not from the usual point of 
view, as the desire of the repentant or the virtuous, but as the long- 
ing of all men at certain times to have a calm and hopeful closing — 
a pledge, as it were, of the reopening. The main purport of his re- 
marks was to show that ' the only way of dying nobly was to live 
nobly f that the triumph of the death-bed is, as it were, the aggre- 
gate resultant triumph of a great many contests with self the whole 
life-long ; that our composure and faith there, if we be in sound 
mind, is the peace which living first with God has given us. The 
deep impression left by the sermon came in great measure probably 
from the earnestness of the speaker himself — a sense of the awful 
reality of these forever-repeated truths, as if with a new and pro- 
found meaning which forced it on our minds, he had said, '■There is 
a God. You are immortal, and you hasten to tremendous retribu- 
tions. There is a life, invisible. Faith, Love, Nobleness, are the 
great facts for each soul. It is all true.' 

" His language was throughout singularly fresh and beautiful — 
charming the intellectual ear, yet never drawing away from the 
idea — and rich in a continual succession of similes and pictures. 
His manner was excellent for such a place ; for the most part easy, 
half-colloquial, and only now and then rising into a strain of elo- 
quence. Any thing like strained oratory, Sunday after Sunday, 
there, would completely pall. The great and marked quality was 
the profound earnestness of the man. 

" The afternoon sermon was on ' the backsliding Christian' — the 
falling away from one's ideal of life : of course, to any thoughtful 
mind, the most solemn of all subjects. His treatment of it was 



292 FREDERICK P. HUNTINGTON. 

very impressive, but by no means equal to the morning's. The 
characterizations were evidently not drawn from life, but rather 
from the usual lists of backslidden saints in sermon-writing. It 
is in such life-pictures that H. W. Beecher shows himself the 
greatest preacher of his day, and sometimes, we think, of modern 
times. 

" Of both sermons, the most eminent fault was, they were not 
written for the audience ; still, they could not fail to reach any 
hearer. 

"Perhaps even more than by his addresses, I was affected by the 
prayers. There is something almost offensive in even criticising a 
prayer ; yet it has become necessary. I believe I speak the lan- 
guage of thousands of hearts, who would not care to utter it, when 
I say that in very many of our pulpits, of all sects, the prayers have 
become something odious to us. To see a man arise, and, with sol- 
emn manner of worship, professed to be addressed to the Infinite 
Spirit, utter an elegant, careful statement, whether of doctrine or 
technical expressions, evidently intended for the audience, contain- 
ing no one word or sentence which really his heart would utter, and 
filled with phrases which have lost all life to him and almost every- 
body else, is to me so disagreeable and offensive, that I feel ashamed 
at bowing my head in union with such mummery. When the liv- 
ing spirit has left the pulpit, you can bear for long the empty ser- 
mons and soulless exhortations. You may feel your patience a kind 
of sacrificial offering to the great cause of social worship and ex- 
pressed religion. But to feign a part in a prayer, which to your 
mind is an empty pretence, or an arbitraiy, technical mode of show- 
ing the spirit of supplication, is revolting to one's honesty and rev- 
erence ; and such services become a burden and an offence. The 
cause of the difficulty is twofold. It lies in that tendency which 
curses all human effort, to forget the inward for the outward, to lose 
sight of the soul, to run into routine ; and further, in many in- 
stances, in a constitutional inability to utter public prayers. There 
are men who cannot pray in public, and they never will. The rem- 
edies for both I leave to the consideration of your readers. 

" Mr. Huntington seems to me really to pray in the pulpit. His 



PRAYER. 293 

soul breathes out there, in natural language, its aspirations to the 
Redeemer and Father. The very spirit of the petitioner raises you 
to his own level of faith, and dependence, and aspiration. It is not 
the words merely that you join, but, by the mysterious touch- of 
sympathy, your soul for the moment takes the same solemn aspects 
of the Unseen, and feels the same sorrow, or hope, or spiritual de- 
sire, which he does. 

" I may possibly have exaggerated the usual character of his 
prayers ; still, so for the time they seemed to me. It is said, too, 
by those familiar with the matter, that that usually most lifeless of 
all routine — college morning-prayers — has with him become a liv- 
ing thing. Of Mr. Huntington's exact sectarian and theological po- 
sition not much could be judged from these services. His expres- 
sions were evidently his own — not gathered from catechisms or 
creeds ; and he seemed, as every true man should, to take his own 
individual aspect of religious truths. 

" It is not strange to hear that such a man is gaining a strong 
influence over the students. And yet how rare is any such influ- 
ence in a college chapel ! Of all places in the world, where should 
be a living preacher with mind awake to eternal realities, with true 
human sympathies, and practical knowledge of men, that is the 
one ; and yet how seldom is he there ! If there is any audience 
which, beyond others, is not affected by scholastic or so-called clas- 
sical addresses, it is one of young students, though the reverse seems 
the popular belief." 

Professor Huntington's peculiar position with respect to the Uni- 
tarian and Orthodox denominations is represented in the following 
extract from an article of his published in the Monthly Religious 
Magazine for November, 1855, of which he is the editor: 

" Within the denomination known as Unitarian, there are those 
who accept Christianity as a dispensation of Divine grace, and not a 
development of human reason ; as having for its specific and pecu- 
liar power, a special, supernatural redemption from sin, in Christ 
Jesus, and not merely an unusual measure of natural wisdom or 
love. They believe in Christ as literally and verily ' God manifest in 
the flesh,' all power being given unto Him in heaven and on earth ; 



■■ 



294 FEEDEP.ICK D. HUWTINGTOTr. 

as the eternally-begotten Son of God, the mode of His oneness with 
the Father being a glorious and gracious mystery, transcending 
knowledge by the reiy i ::::::::= of the jase : and as the ever-living 
present Head of the Church, and personal Intercessor for His disci- 
ples. They believe in the universality of the need of a spiri 
renewal in human hearts, through repentance, forgiving grace, and 
the salvation in Chris:, They believe that the cross of the Redeemer 
is the world's only hope : all everywhere who are saved being saved 
thioagh the spiritual a : ^ministration and headship of the Son of God 
over the entire race, consciously or unconsciously operating. They 
v-.rve in prayer as a veritable asking and receiving from God. and 
not a self-stimulating and reactive process of man. In these respects, 
they probably differ from others of the same name, doctrinally. In 
many other points they agree. 

•• These persons als:> earnestly desire a cordial fellowship with all, 
of every name, whose spirit and faith permit it They suppose God 
has fcroe servants in all religions hrusehohls. and that other sects than 
the Unitarians have something to afford to the Church of the Fu- 
ture. They take all honorable occasions, therefore, to cultivate these 
catholic sympathies, and to hold friendly intercourse with intelligent 
and earnest hearts of different denominations ; their own deepest in- 
terest inclining them naturally to ; evangelical' associations, rather 
than the opposite. Ministers of this stamp would gladly exchange 
professional civilities wi:h devout orthodox men, for the sake of 
the ends here indicated, and as being a simple act of Christian 
acy between disciples so agreed and related. They make full 
and nureserved use. not of technical terms, but of the rich serip- 
tural phraseology which best conveys their doctrines. Sometimes 
it happens, and this also very naturally, that their preaching is liked 
by orthodox hearers : and these, finding in it an unexpected unction, 
and what seems the very truth of Christ, call it orthodox preach- 
ing. Such believers do not find themselves otherwise than happy, 
contented, and busy where they are ; and, having tasted of a 
peace, can say, * Would to God all were even as I am in this 
faith '.' They are not moving consciously towards any particular 
denomination or creed, but only pray to come nearer and ever 



CHURCH OF THE FTJTCEE. 295 

nearer to the Master, and to do their humble work faithfully under 
His eye, and His acceptance. 

u What is the meaning of our boasted liberality ? Is it that you 
may be rationalistic as you please, and go clear ; but, if you happen 
to have ' evangelical' predilections, you must be assailed ? Is it that 
we must be tolerant of skepticism, and the persecutors of orthodoxy ? 
Is it that we must embrace those who deny the doctrines of redemp- 
tion, regeneration, special and Divine answers to prayer, and the in- 
spiration of the Scriptures, but denounce those who cling to them as 
the hope and joy of their souls ? Does this vaunted charity, look in 
only one direction, and that away from the cross of Christ? * * * 
The Unitarian denomination have lately, we believe, through some 
of their public men and journals, and recognition of pastors, given 
frequent signs of cordial favor to men, honest no doubt, who have 
no belief in the Divine authority of revelation, in the infallibility 
and supernatural works of Jesus Christ, in the need of a radical re- 
newing of the human heart, in the efficacy of prayer as bringing us 
direct help from God, beyond the effects wrought in the natural 
operations of the human mind, or in the personal presence of the 
Saviour in His Church. It only remains to cast off those who hold 
opposite convictions, to complete the severance of the denomination 
from historical Christianity and evangelical religion." 

In these paragraphs, replete with thought and suggestion, we see 
the strong tendencies of the man. He is the leader of those who 
have come to be styled, in popular phrase, " Evangelical Unitarians." 
He looks for a new development, or a new expression of Christianity. 
He anticipates " a Church of the Future," embracing all existing 
denominations, on a new and more comprehensive basis. But he 
thinks that no planning or scheming can evolve it ; that it must be 
born, not of human purposes, but of God's spirit. He thinks that it 
will unite those among the orthodox who are called Unitarian with 
those among the Unitarians who are called orthodox, as well as 
those Christians who will not connect themselves with any denomi- 
nation, either because of their strong dislike for sectarianism, or of 
their disapproval of a creed as the door of admission. 

The movement among the Unitarians which he represents, and which 



296 FREDERICK D. HUNTINGTON. 

we are inclined to think is rather exceptional than general, is stigma- 
tized as a " return to Calvinism" by those who represent, under the 
term " Calvinism," exaltation of the creed above the life, God's love 
lost sight of in His absorbing justice, and, perhaps, illiberality and 
bigotry ; though they would by no means charge Professor Hunting- 
ton either with these views or with this illiberal spirit ; but rather 
expressing in that formula disapproval of the movement. Of course 
Professor Huntington strongly objects to such nomenclature, insist- 
ing that the movement should not be identified with any name of 
the Past or Present. "For while one saith, I am of Paul, and 
another, I am of Apollos, are ye not carnal ? Who then is Paul, or 
who is Apollos, but ministers by whom ye believed ? Therefore let 
no man glory in men. For all things are yours ; whether Paul or 
Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, 
or things to come ; all are yours : and ye are Christ's ; and Christ 
is God's." He believes that questions should be discussed in their 
principles, and not in their advocates ; and we think he would deny 
also that the strictly orthodox stand now on the platform of Calvin, as 
they profess to do. He feels that little progress will be made to- 
wards a fusion of the Unitarian and Orthodox, while names hold such 
potent sway ; and especially while the religious journals are, for the 
most part, so denunciative and bitter in tone, and so contentious in 
spirit. His views of union are tolerated by the Christian Register 
of Boston, opposed by the Christian Inquirer of New York, and re- 
garded with heart-felt sympathy by those of the orthodox who think 
that the development of the great spiritual verities, believed every 
where, and by all Christians, should not be limited by peculiar dia- 
lectics or special terminology. 

The following statement of the suggested reunion of the Evangelical 
and Unitarian Congregationalists is from the pen of an influential 
Unitarian clergyman of Massachusetts : 

"Some five and thirty years ago, when the policy of the Calvin- 
istic section of the Congregational body, in excluding the Unitarian 
section from all Christian fellowship, was fairly settled, there was 
not wanting wise men among the Orthodox who declared that it 
was a mistaken policy, which would by and by be regretted. They 



UNION OF CONG KEG ATIONALISTS. 297 

knew how difficult it is to heal a division, especially one which has 
been confirmed by religious tradition and all the prejudices of early 
education. They felt that the position which Calvinism then took 
was a departure from the radical Protestant doctrine and the proper 
principles of the New England Independents. But they had small 
influence in the councils which zealots of the faith controlled. The 
decree went out that the Unitarians must be dealt with as heretics, 
excluded from the courtesies of the Church, denied the Christian 
name, and deprived as far as possible of all religious consideration. 
The lines were drawn between belief and unbelief. The Unitarians 
were driven, in self-defence, to combine and become a sect, and 
from this to assume in some particulars an aggressive position. In 
a little time, the voices on either side which had spoken for union 
ceased to be heard, sharp controversy quite silenced all prophecy of 
peace ; the elders, whose differing opinions did not break their fel- 
lowship, died one after another, and to the new generation tho 
Orthodox and Unitarian bodies were as widely distinct as the Ortho- 
dox and Catholic Churches. Probably most of the lay-members in 
existing Congregational churches have no idea that any union 
between the Orthodox and Unitarian bodies ever existed ! 

" The time which those wise men of the Orthodox body predicted 
has now nearly or quite come. There are many now who regret 
that difference in a few points of faith, or in the interpretation of 
the phrases of a few formulas, should separate those whose sympa- 
thies, whose practical purpose, and whose most important and posi- 
tive faith would bring them together. The Orthodox are discovering 
that men, whom they are ecclesiastically bound to shut out from 
Christian intercourse, are really nearer to them than many whom 
they ecclesiastically acknowledge. They are dissatisfied with the 
narrow position which they are compelled to occupy, and long to 
get rid of the necessity of sacrificing real affinities to traditional and 
nominal hatreds. They are inquiring the way of reconciliation. 
The Orthodox journals, indeed, do not say much about it, for it 
would not be prudent so to do ; a religious newspaper of large cir- 
culation must always follow at a respectful distance the opinions of 
its party. But in private the way of reconciliation between the 



29 S FREDERICK D. HUNTINGTON. 

Unitarians and the Orthodox is much talked about, and is a matter 
of serious moment to many eminent men in the latter body. There 
are some who have come to the point of believing such reconcilia- 
tion to be fit, necessary, and near in time, though they cannot tell 
exactly how it is to be brought about, more than the Abolitionists 
can tell how slavery is to be brought to an end. They only know 
that the present apparent division is awkward, inconvenient, and 
wrong, and are ready to agree to any feasible method of getting rid 
of it. We are confident that the class of Orthodox men who have 
this feeling is considerable, both in numbers and in ability, and is 
daily growing. 

" The Unitarians, we think, are not, as a body, particularly anxious 
for a formal recognition by their Orthodox relatives. They do not 
pine under the long disgrace of heresy which has been fastened to 
their name, nor are they uneasy because they fail of full fellowship 
from those whom time has brought nearly back to them. Yet one 
who has observed the tone of much of the recent writing in Unitarian 
books and journals, cannot help seeing that phrases which have an 
Orthodox sound are more agreeable than they were formerly, and 
that doctrines are not now so unpalatable because they seem to be 
Orthodox. Those gentlemen of other denominations who attended 
upon the first day's session of our last Convention in Providence, 
could not have been disturbed by any sound of heresy. An outsider 
might have imagined himself in a meeting of the Board of Missions 
or of the Tract Society, more harmonious in sentiment than are the 
usual meetings of those ponderous bodies. We do not believe that 
the Unitarians are any more Orthodox in doctrine now than they 
have been ever since their average faith has been settled ; or that 
the pith and marrow of Calvinism is at all agreeable to their taste. 
But it were uncandid to deny that a tone of discourse, which resem- 
bles that of the Orthodox body, finds a growing favor in their ranks. 
The fears or the. hopes that Unitarians are going over to the Ortho- 
dox body, are, we think, alike idle. We do not know the first man 
in the connection who would be willing to sign any creed that Cal- 
vinism ever framed. Yet the use of language in conference meet- 
ings, in convention speeches, in sermons, and in devotional books 



UNION OF CONGKEGATIONALISTS. 299 

which are issued by the connection itself, with its stamp of approval, 
warrants the belief that a large number of Unitarians are not averse 
to reconciliation, if it can be brought about. 

" A virtual reconciliation has been for some time in progress, on 
the neutral ground of practical ethics and social reform. The great 
moral causes in which Unitarians have been, if not foremost, always 
prominent, have brought them into joint action with the Orthodox, 
and suggested a revision of the extreme theological judgments on 
either hand. The gigantic growth of Materialism has turned the di- 
rection of warfare, and made allies of those who were ancient enemies. 
There is an established moral co-operation in the strife with vice in 
every form, and in favor of education, temperance, equal laws, and 
noble charities, which no sectarian cry can hinder. Those organs of 
either party which set positive philanthropy above the affairs of sect, 
are prized, used, and freely praised by numbers on the opposite side. 
Unitarians read the 'Independent' newspaper almost as much as 
their own journals. Orthodox men are eager to get the works of 
Channing. In Lyceum lectures men hear with delight the utter- 
ances, which are only sermons a little secularized. Mr. Chapin and 
Mr. Beecher, Dr. Osgood and Dr. Storrs, preach all over the country, 
in that form, what they preach in their own pulpits, and the people 
listen and applaud. So genuine is this practical reconciliation, that 
many do not care for any thing more. Why should we be troubled 
that we are not called Christians on official occasions, if the Orthodox 
are willing to hear what we have to say, to give us all the room 
which we ask, and refuse none of those courtesies which help life to 
go on pleasantly ? If real sympathy exists, in matters which are 
most important, why should we vex ourselves about the trifle of min- 
isterial exchanges, or the feeble protests of timid sectarians, who 
would hold back the spirit of the age ? The lecture committees, of 
New England, do not send to East Windsor or Bangor to know 
whom it is proper to invite, or lay for approval their list of names 
before the good brethren who gather in conference meetings. 

" This actual sympathy, however, does not satisfy all. There are 
those who "want some sort of a union in matters purely ecclesiastical ; 
a mutual recognition of the Christian position of both bodies ; a re- 



300 FREDERICK D. HTJTS T TEN T GTON. 

newal of ministerial exchanges, to some extent, basing these on per- 
sonal friendship, rather than on exact similarity of creed ; union in 
pastoral associations, in religious anniversaries, at dedications, ordi- 
nations, and the like. The difficulties in the -way of such mutual 
recognition, will not, we are persuaded, be found on the side of the 
Unitarians, unless they are required to lrmit or to relinquish their 
cherished doctrine of perfect individual freedom. If fellowship with 
their Orthodox brethren requires that they renounce fellowship with 
all in their own connection, whose studies must have led them in the 
direction of Rationalism, or whose criticism of the Scriptures may 
seem freer than the criticism of the old standard books ; requires 
them to set up any test, whether of scholarship or theological the- 
ory, they will not ask for the boon at such a price. They will not 
leave their broad platform to stand on the narrow platform of Ortho- 
doxy, however pleasant the company there may be. Xor will they 
multiply disclaimers of sympathy with the lax speculations in their 
own body, for the sake of assuring their Orthodox friends. They 
will not read out pharisaically any from their ranks to get the 
agreeable name of ' brother' from those who dread the contamina- 
tion of heresy. 

" The union of the two branches of the Congregational body can 
never be on the around of a creed, neither of anv creed now existing, 
or of any creed formed by compromise. So long as formulas meas- 
ure fellowship, no matter how comprehensive, vague, or elastic they 
may be, the liberal party can never be in ecclesiastical bonds with 
the strict. When the Orthodox cease to make creed their test, and 
take the earnestness and singleness of faith, and not its amour.- is 
the sign of a Christian belief ; when they will receive the fruits of 
godly living, and the zeal for practical righteousness, as evidence that 
we are fit to dwell with them as brethren ; when they will go back 
to the old Protestant principle of individual freedom in opinion, as in 
action, then the ancient union may be restored, the differences healed, 
and the Congregational body stand in bolder and grander strength 
than it has ever stood. Until that time, we must be content with 
the quiet sympathy — not powerless for good because it is fettered 
by forms and prejudices — which comes outside of our nominal 






UNION OF CONGREGATION ALISTS. 301 

Church establishments. We do not believe that the real affiliation 
of formerly hostile parties is retarded seriously by the former hin- 
drances which trouble those who would see it complete. An at- 
tempt to hasten the union by any special expedients, might do more 
harm than good. We are doubtful even if the Congregational body 
would at present work so efficiently in its union as by its division. 
The spirit of creed is not yet quite overcome by the spirit of union. 
The sentiment must become so general that it will dare, on official 
occasions, to declare itself before the act of union will have any gen- 
uine vitality. We shall not regard rare instances of pulpit exchange 
between ministers of the two connections, who may have strong per- 
sonal as well as theological sympathies, as any sign of a near gen- 
eral union. We shall wait for the journals to express their desire, 
before we predict any important change from the present relation of 
the two bodies. 

" Meanwhile, whatever slight changes may come in the style of 
expression among Unitarians, concerning the doctrines of the Gospel ; 
however much some may seem to lean towards Orthodox theories, 
we believe that Unitarians are satisfied with their ecclesiastical 
basis — that of perfect individual freedom — and that they are pre- 
pared to adopt, as their own, these words of Schleiermacher, which 
we find quoted in the last number of the Christian Examiner : 
'With the greatest astonishment, I have lately read, in an article of 
an academic theologian, that it is the fundamental character of 
Protestantism to base itself upon unchangeable written foundations, 
and especially to place the clergy under the law of an inviolable 
church constitution. It seems to me, in truth, as if I was suddenly 
enveloped in darkness, and obliged to go to the door, to come out 
into the free light. And certainly so will many feel who are as little 
rationalistic as I. If, instead of the noble principle of freedom, that 
no assembly has the right to establish articles of faith, this other 
doctrine should be adopted, I would rather be in a church-fellowship 
which allows free inquiry and peaceful controversy with all Ration- 
alists, if they only admit a confession of Christ, and, from convic- 
tion, continue to call themselves Christians, and even with those 
whose forms of doctrine I have most positively spoken against, than 



302 FREDERICK D. HUNTINGTON. 

be shut up with those other in an intrenchment made by the rigid 
letter.'" 

"We append an article by Professor Huntington, which, though 
long, cannot be condensed. It appeared in the February number of 
his Magazine, which, it is observable, at the same time, was issued 
with a new name, as " The Monthly Religious Magazine, and Inde- 
2)&ndent Journal." The article is headed " Remarks on the preced- 
ing Letter," which letter (signed with the well-known initials of 
" E. B. H.") was a review of a sermon by Rev. S. W. S. Dutton of 
New Haven, on " The relation of the Atonement to Holiness," pub- 
lished in the preceding number of his Magazine, with the following 
introduction : 

" We can do our readers no better service than to reprint entire 
Rev. Mr. Dutton's Concio ad Clerum, delivered before the General 
Association of Connecticut last July. It must be borne in mind, 
that it received the evident and full approbation of that rather ortho- 
dox body ; though we are aware that to mention this circumstance 
will prejudice its reception with some persons whose liberality is 
rather in name than in reality. Others will not fail to be nourished 
by the truths it so fervently proclaims, finding something there that 
meets their hearts, and gratified by the encouragement it gives to 
the hope that clear and consistent statements shall yet be found out 
for vital theological doctrines, in which earnest Christian believers 
can agree. Here and there, amidst the gathering and glowing 
grandeur of that sublime harmony which is yet to blend the praises, 
and voice the faith, of reconciled sects, some little shriek of discord 
is heard, both on one side and the other, petulantly protesting that 
the promises are illusory, that the unity is as far off as ever, and the 
occasion for quarrel perpetual. It is good to collect and present 
the evidences to the contrary. Besides those that are public, there 
is a private, volume of them accumulating, from which the seals 
will some time be taken off by the Providence that orders history." 

The reader is now ready for Professor Huntington's article 

On the Atonement. 
" The communication presented above will obtain a respectful con- 



VIEWS OF THE ATONEMENT. 303 

sideration among all our readers, both for its candor, and for the 
esteem everywhere felt for its signature. It reached us too late in 
the month for a thorough examination in the present number ; and 
we are not without hope that the author of the Sermon criticised 
may speak for himself through our pages. Meantime, we seize the 
opportunity to suggest rapidly a few thoughts on the subject, for 
which justice, and love of truth, seem to ask a patient hearing. In 
many respects, the present time offers encouragements to a revision 
of the old New England controversy. It is not unreasonable to 
believe that there are minds of sufficient breadth, in both the par- 
ties, to understand that the whole truth does not probably reside 
with either one. Local intimacy, the course of events, providential 
appointments, a better appreciation of historical antecedents, and a 
happier interpretation, on both sides, of controversial language, have 
prepared a state of things where each system may look for fair 
dealing at least from its old antagonist. Certainly it is a poor 
comment on both of them, if it must be said that they are not able, 
by this time, to furnish persons who can conduct a public discus- 
sion of their differences without a heated temper and acrimonious 
aspersions. 

" I. The Unitarian mind needs to disabuse itself of the impres- 
sion that the Orthodox view of the atonement separates the Father 
from the Son in the atoning work. Here is a natural ground of 
misapprehension. The preceding ' Letter' seems to be slightly 
colored by it. The Unitarian is in the habit of drawing a sharp 
distinction between the nature of God and the nature of Christ ; 
and, accordingly, when he hears it affirmed that Christ's death 
accomplished for man a salvation which could have been achieved 
in no other way, he objects that this takes the efficient cause of 
human salvation out of the hands of God, and puts it into the 
hands of another and an inferior being. The great office of re- 
demption is then said to be exhibited as originating in another will 
than God's, while God merely accepts it. Of course, the Divine 
Character is felt to be wronged. Instead of bestowing on the be- 
liever the gift of eternal life, and pardoning his sins, God is here 
supposed (says the Unitarian) to become merely a party to a plan, 



304: FREDERICK D. HUNTINGTON. 

or scheme, devised and brought in by another, to meet an emergency 
in the divine administration. He accedes to a measure not em- 
braced within the range of his own primal, consistent, and eternal 
way of saving the world. At this theory, — which is really no- 
body's theory, but only a misconstruction of a theory, — reverence 
necessarily revolts. But it is to be remembered that those who 
adopt the view of the atonement presented in the Sermon are en- 
cumbered with no such difficulty, because they recognize no such 
distinction between the Father and the Son. Were it possible for 
them to conceive of God separate from Christ, they would say, per- 
haps, that the redemption is as much the Father's as if there were 
no Son, only they cannot so conceive of Him. The Father and the 
Son are completely and altogether at unity in the redemptive plan. 
It is no more peculiar to the one than to the other. Whatever 
popular representations of the doctrine an inadequate rhetoric may 
have been driven to adopt, it is not really held that the Son pro- 
posed, and the Father agreed, — that the Son made an overture 
which the Father accepted ; but that both are one, in the design 
and the consummation. And they always have been one in this. 
Christ's mediatorial and reconciling office was an element in the 
everlasting providence and grace for mankind. It was not a con- 
trivance sought out, or got up, for an emergency. It was, from the 
beginning, in the counsels and the foreseeing compassion of the self- 
existent Father, and of the only and eternally-begotten Son dwelling 
forever in <His bosom.. Nor is this belief necessarily confined to any 
Trinitarian sect. It belongs to all who put this depth and width of 
meaning on the Saviour's words : ' I and my Father are one.' To 
deny, therefore, the indispensableness of Christ's atonement, on the 
ground that it transfers power or sufficiency away from God, is 
impertinent as an argument addressed to them that believe in that 
indispensableness. Orthodoxy has not fallen into so superficial a 
fallacy, and is not likely to be affected by \a reiteration of this fa- * 
miliar criticism. 

" II. Much the same might be said of the often-repeated charge, 
— not brought forward, however, in this ' Letter,' — that Orthodoxy 
makes the Father to impersonate Vengeance or Retributive Law, or 



VIEWS OF THE ATONEMENT. 305 

even Justice, and the Son to impersonate Love. It is a valid refuta- 
tion of that charge, that every careful and responsible Orthodox 
statement of the work of the atonement exhibits it as the highest 
and crowning proof of God's compassion. Through whatever form, 
framework, and interaction of persons, the great result is worked out, 
no Orthodoxy can be quite stupid enough to contradict such texts as 
that one which declares that ' God so loved the world that He gave 
His only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not 
perish; for God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world, 
but that the world through Him might be saved ;' and hundreds 
more, to the same purport, on the pages of the New Testament If 
we were to begin quoting passages from Orthodox authorities, to 
show that they uniformly ascribe the merciful dispositions mani- 
fested in the redemption to the Father, we should not know where 
to stop. Is it quite worthy of the intelligence or the honesty of 
liberal Christians to continue to urge an absurd accusation, and one 
that is sure to rebound because of its absurdity ? "Why not bring 
the censure to the true point of fault, which is, simply (in regard to 
the matter now immediately before us), the point of an erroneous 
verbal representation? We do not believe, that, in the general 
Orthodox consciousness and heart, the accepted doctrine of the atone- 
ment puts a repulsive aspect upon the character of God, honors the 
Son by dishonoring the Father, or removes the Father to a frigid 
distance. "We do not believe any competent representative of Ortho- 
doxy will allow for a moment, or hear it alleged without pain, that 
his system permits any sort of real comparison of attributes, much 
less contrast, competition, or antagonism, between Persons in the 
Godhead, Some of the most tender and beautiful instances we have 
ever known of filial and affectionate relations with the Father have 
been among those that were reared under the ordinary Orthodox in- 
struction, and were firm in that faith. On the other hand, we as 
fully believe that Orthodox writers and preachers are a good deal in 
the habit of using phraseology on this subject as objectionable as it 
is unscriptural, — phraseology which their own cooler definitions 
would disclaim, — phraseology that is liable to be misunderstood by 
individuals, and to prove a scandal with them, and which trans- 
20 



306 FREDERICK D. HCNTINGTOK. 

gresses all reasonable latitudes of dramatic illustration. We have 
heard such metaphors and tropes in this kind, from able and devout 
Orthodox theologians, in public discourse, as have shocked our 
whole religious sense, and made us wish ourselves out of the house, 
and vet-have received from the same tongues, in private conversa- 
tion, doctrinal statements on the same points to which we could 
take no sort of exception. Nor was there the least intentional or 
conscious incongruity. The Church is rent asunder and disordered 
by words. Each sect has a certain set of phrases, a traditional lan- 
guage, a style of representation, which amounts to a dialect by 
itself, and which often appears, to men of a different denomination 
and training, either disgusting, irreverent, extravagant, or perhaps 
profanely cold. Dialogue will sometimes cast it off. If we cannot 
get near enough to each other, and listen forbearingly enough to 
each other, to lay hold of actual meanings and interpretations, it 
appears to us we have been born in the wrong age, or, at any rate, 
need to be born again. 

" III. What has been most offensive to Unitarians*— as we have 
always supposed — in the Calvinistic doctrine of the Cross, is its vi- 
carious element — the idea of substituted penalty. The 'Letter' 
implies, in a qualified form, that this notion is to be found in Mr. 
Dutton's Sermon. On the contrary, it is conspicuously absent from 
that Sermon. In any shape which would conflict with the Divine 
equity, or with personal responsibility, or with the obligations ot 
righteousness, such a notion, we venture to say, is emphatically re- 
jected by the most enlightened and effective class of Orthodox 
thinkers in New England. They do not employ the word vicarious, 
nor accept the philosophy. One object we had in reprinting a dis- 
course from one of the New Haven school of divines, was to display 
this fact. If any one supposes the old Calvinistic ground is held, 
on this subject, by the minds which best indicate the tendencies in 
the Orthodox Congregational body, it must be because he has failed 
to keep himself acquainted with the course of thought in that body 
for the last twenty-five years. 

" IV. But it is not to be denied that the view commonly called 
Orthodox, and presented by Mr. Dutton, differs from the proper 



YIEWS OF THE ATONEMENT. 307 

Unitarian view ; and a large part of our interest in it arises from 
this circumstance. Without undertaking Mr. Dutton's defence, we 
should be glad to bespeak for the system he represents a new and 
unprejudiced inquiry among liberal people. The idea may be 
briefly stated, we think, thus ; Christ died for the world, because it 
was not consistent with the rectitoide, the wisdom, and the mercy, 
of the divine government, that those who had broken its laws 
should be treated as if they had not broken them, without such a 
suffering ; while the divine method, including such suffering and 
such a Sufferer, opens a consistent way for the pardon and accept- 
ance of the sinner, with no detriment to the sanctities of law, and 
no danger of loosening the foundations of a righteous judgment, 
and, at the same time, affords a signal and glorious manifestation of 
spiritual love. Now, a priori, what moral or logical objection lies 
against this statement ? Is it not for God to determine for Himself 
the way in which He will carry forward the administration of the 
universe, accomplish His beneficent ends, and reconcile to Himself 
those* that have slighted His promises, insulted His affection, and 
plunged away from Him ? If we, with our short-sightedness, our 
ignorance, our enfeebled faculties, and, in fact, belonging to the 
guilty party, should undertake to set up a better method of our 
own, is it not likely we should commit some blunder ? Still, it is 
said, the method must seem to comport with our ideas of rectitude 
and reason, or else we cannot refer it to God. Is either rectitude or 
reason compromised, then, by this doctrine? "Whom does it wrong? 
Not God, who originates it. Not Christ, who voluntarily and joy- 
fully — out of His divine sympathy with man's misery, and longing 
for his deliverance, and prevision of the sublime issue — undertakes 
it. Not man himself, who, if he will comply with the simple con- 
ditions, accept what is offered him, and give his faith to the Re- 
deemer, is thereby saved, notwithstanding his offences. Not the 
abstract principles of right and truth ; for there is no commercial 
transfer of punishment, nor compulsion of the unwilling, nor forcing 
the innocent into the place of the guilty : but all is the moral 
working of a moral administration, according to the laws of a 
moral Governor and of moral impression on the governed ; and the 



308 FREDERICK D. HUNTINGTON. 

whole is supposed to be openly declared beforehand. What says 
reason ? We confess we are at a loss to discover any rational pro- 
cess which runs against man's being pardoned and saved through 
Christ's sufferings, which would not run against hig being pardoned 
and saved on any condition whatever, so long as those sufferings 
are voluntary, represent to us the very highest possible instance of 
disinterested goodness, and release no single offender without the 
penitence, trust, holy effort, and entire spiritual state, which any plan 
of salvation must contemplate, superadding the most interesting and 
endearing relations to a personal divine Deliverer. And the logical 
value of a system which provides some sort of moral equivalent for 
the universal violation of a perfect law, in the balance of a complete 
government, seems to us quite as great as that of a system which 
leaves mediation out, and says, merely, 'Obey my law in every 
thing ; but then, if you do not, if you break it with all your might, 
and only repent afterwards, you shall be treated just as if you had 
done what I commanded.' But if any one, without pretending to 
adduce strictures either of reason or equity, simply rejects the doc- 
trine of the Atonement because it does not happen to appear neces- 
sary to him, such an attitude would seem to imply nothing but vanity 
and impiety. 

" We understand the ' Letter' as asking why one should believe 
the death of Christ necessary to the pardon of sin. It strikes us 
that one very obvious reason for believing so is, that Christ has died. 
That sacrifice could hardly have been a work of supererogation. 
But we can go farther — can we not ? We can suppose the Almighty 
to have said thus : ' Of my omniscience, I know that such is the 
constitution of man, such is the organization of things, and such 
would be the historical development of the human race, that to par- 
don the repenting sinner without a divine mediation, would, on the 
whole, and in the wide result, prove a lax rule of government. Un- 
lawful advantage would be taken of that indulgence. Either sin 
would take encouragement, or despair would palsy effort. Lo ! my 
beloved Son comes forth, by His own free suffering, — the just for the 
unjust, the sinless for the sinful, the divine with the human, — to 
confirm the holy demands of the law, and, at the same time, to hold 



VIEWS OF THE ATONEMENT. 309 

out gentle and inviting terms of release. See in this how sacred 
and awful is the majesty of the commandment ! how much is suf- 
fered for it ! Accept, believe Him in that character, and thou shaft 
be saved !' Is there any thing repulsive, irrational, opposed to the 
character of God, in this ? We may not be able, by our poor defi- 
nitions, to tell completely how this redemption acts to open the 
way; we may not know how to apply the benefit to those that have 
not known the Saviour's name, or that lived before he was mani- 
fested in the flesh. It would be strange if our thoughts or words 
could exhaust such a mystery. But may we not still feel assured, 
that, as an organic whole, the divine administration so embraces this 
element of mediation, that all ages and lands and accepted souls 
shall feel its influence, and share finally in its blessing? That 
righteous heathen, not knowing Christ here, should yet be saved 
through Him, is no more inexplicable, than that righteous heathen, 
not knowing God the Father, should be saved by Him. 

" V. The ' Letter' inquires earnestly what passages of Scripture 
countenance the doctrine that the sufferings of Christ are necessary 
to the forgiveness of sin. It is not for us to anticipate Mr. Dutton's 
reply. We presume, however, he would cite such texts as the fol- 
lowing ; bearing in mind that, in all fair questions of interpretation, 
he would be likely to take that view which goes most to sanction 
his own theology, as being most in harmony with what he would 
consider the main drift of the teachings of revelation : ' Without 
the shedding of blood is no remission.' 'If any man sin, we have an 
Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous ; and he is the 
propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, but also for the sins 
of the whole world 1 (rather a strong text). ' Who needeth not daily 
to offer up sacrifice, as those high priests, first for his own sins, and 
then for the people's ; for this he did once, when he offered up him- 
self.' (Has not the whole magnificent argument in the Epistle to the 
Hebrews this scope — proving Christ to be a Deliverer universal and 
eternal, himself both Priest and Sacrifice ?) ' God was in Christ, 
reconciling the world to himself.' ' Behold the Lamb of God, which 
taketh away the sin of the world /' ' This is indeed the Christ, the 
Saviour of the world. 1 l That as sin had reigned unto death, even 



310 FREDERICK D. HUHTDTGtOH. 

so might grace reign unto righteousness by Jesus Christ our Lord,' 
' There is no other name given under heaven ichereby we can be 
saved.' The great doctrine of the apostles was, ' Christ crucified] 
Christ and the cross, Christ the Saviour of the race of men as an 
organic whole. ' The bread that I will give (not yet given) is my 
flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.' ' He died for all, 
that they which live should not live unto themselves.' ' To this 
end, Christ both died and rose and revived, that he might be Lord 
both of the dead and living? ' Jesus Christ, that loved us, and 
washed us from our sins in his own blood.' ' By his own blood he 
obtained eternal redemption for us.' ' Feed the church of God, 
which he hath purchased with his own blood.' ' Being now justi- 
fied by his blood, we shall be saved from wrath through him.' 
' How much more shall the blood of Christ purge your conscience 
from dead works.' ' The blood of the everlasting covenant.' ' Ye 
were redeemed with the precious blood of Christ.' ' The blood of 
Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin.' Now, as one ponders the 
singular force and directness and agreement of these passages, and 
very many more of the same import, and marks then cumulative 
power as they resound through the Xew Testament, we submit that 
it will not be strange if he feels that on those who believe with 
the author of the ' Letter' rests the burden of explaining how, ac- 
cording to the Bible, the death of Christ is not the divinely ordained 
and essential ground of human salvation, and that something pos- 
sessing vitality, energy, and power, has been left out of the system 
which confines the efficacy of that death to the noble but incidental 
influence of a consistent martyrdom. There is some reason to think 
that passages like those we have quoted have become comparatively 
unfamiliar to Unitarian ears, by having been dropped out of Unita- 
rian preaching, under a natural persuasion that they do not har- 
monize with the Unitarian theory. 

u The Sermon is objected to, as using language which implies 
that God died. We have no wish to defend any such language, on 
the score of taste, or reverence, or theological accuracy. "vVe think 
it would be a gain if the Orthodox pulpit and press were to drop it. 
It has no clear scrmtural sanction. Yet, even here, let us use some 



VIEWS OF THE ATONEMENT. 311 

forbearance. Is any Unitarian wild enough to assert or imagine 
that any Calvinist blasphemously supposes the eternal and self- 
existent Almighty One to be dead ? What then ? Why, we must 
patiently sit down, and try to find out exactly what the language 
does mean, and, after this kind appreciation, seek, if we will, to dis- 
suade its authors from repeating it, for the reason that other lan- 
guage, better and less offensively, expresses that meaning. We sup- 
pose the idea to be this : Christ, whose nature is God's nature, took 
upon himself a human body and a human experience, and, in that 
body, passed through the suffering and dissolution which we call 
death, fulfilling thereby His great work of redeeming man, and re- 
entered into His everlasting and heavenly glory, lifting the dying 
world with Him, leading captivity captive, and, by His infinite con- 
descension, bringing many sons unto glory. The central thought is, 
that the recovery of sinning man was wrought out, as it must be, 
by tbe voluntary suffering of the divine nature in man's behalf. 
There is an unutterable strength in the tenderness of the entreaty 
pronounced by such suffering. It moves the soul as nothing else in 
the universe can move it. This conviction has become so full and 
so dear to many minds of Unitarian education, that we have re- 
peatedly heard of late, from some of their best preachers, such 
statements as that the redemption of the sinner was ' costly to the 
mind of God.' There is a transcendent philosophy, an adorable 
adaptation of boundless love and wisdom to human wants, in that 
mystery. The writer of the 'Letter' will not question that the 
Scripture says, ' God was in Christ,' nor that Emmanuel, His name, 
signifies ' God with us ;' and yet Christ did die. In all reasonable- 
ness, we must acquit the Sermon — as, indeed, the i Letter' is in- 
clined to — of intending literally to teach that death or destruction 
took effect upon the Divine Being. It is to be hoped, too, that the 
resources of liberal logic will be able to spare the smart little epi- 
gram which has figured so bravely in Unitarian polemics, to the 
effect that Orthodoxy makes Jehovah to have perished to appease 
His own anger, inasmuch as it purchases a complacent conceit at 
the expense of a double falsehood. As an ironical satire on an infe- 
licitous style of Orthodox rhetoric, it is more justifiable. 



312 FEEDEEICK D. HUNTINGTON. 

" How far the governmental aspect of the atonement presented in 
the Sermon can be made efficient for producing repentance and 
holiness, through the public discourse of the pulpit, depends much, 
we presume, on personal gifts, affinities, habits of speech, education, 
and the traditional impressions of congregations. Wherever it is so 
set forward as to intensify man's abhorrence of guilt, and heighten 
the sanctity of God's law, its effect is not only practical, but, as it 
seems to us, edifying to the last degree. Why any one should be 
startled or disturbed at its being held as the firm and vindicatory 
background of justice in the representation of God's boundless love, 
is something we cannot understand. Our own belief is, that the 
chief regenerating results of the preaching of the cross will always 
be realized most perfectly where — theories apart — the death of 
Christ is most simply and affectingly held forth as the one supreme 
and matchless exhibition of the love of God — His pity, His long- 
suffering, His desire for man's salvation. When the doctrine has 
been properly guarded against abuse, by showing its harmony with 
the immutable laws and equities of the divine character, its man- 
ward action must always be of principal, immediate interest to the 
soul needing redemption. To move, to melt, to change, to save the 
hard and selfish heart, Christ died ; and without that death is no 
remission. That the eternal Mind should have foreseen, from the 
beginning, that, by this system of Messianic redemption, powers, 
affections, spiritual agencies would be laid hold of, and brought into 
glorious exercise, through all time, which otherwise could not be 
reached, seems to us not only possible, but singularly according to 
our own experience and the inspired word. Why should we not 
bow with silent and joyful gratitude before the plan, instead of 
cavilling and doubting ? We know not how others may be struck 
with the testimonies of history ; but for ourselves, as we turn back 
on the line of holy witnesses since the first age, as we take up 
biography after biography, study life after life, follow saint after 
saint to his victory and his rest, and thus grow intimate with the 
great fellowship of wise, strong, unyielding, and mightily gifted 
thinkers and believers of the Church, and listen to the almost undi- 
vided voice of confession and faith coming up from the innumerable 



-STEWS OF THE ATONEMENT. 313 

company, declaring Christ Jesus and Him crucified the ground of 
their hopes, and His sufferings the great pledge of pardon — with 
only here and there a different doctrine, falling in cooler accents 
from some exceptional tongue — we readily own that we must recon- 
sider whether there is not some element of blessed power here that 
Unitarianism has overlooked or thrown away. We are not sur- 
prised to hear from many brethren hearty utterances of the same 
conviction. 

" Now, we are fully mindful that none of our statements on this 
great subject may be adequate, or even correct ; nay, we remember 
that the truth itself may not be seen by any of us as it will yet be 
seen by eyes of purer vision, or as it really is. We reserve the right 
of modifying our statements as further studies and new convictions 
shall require. Be dogmatism far away from a theme so holy and so 
affecting as this ! Unless we entirely misapprehend the expressions 
and tendencies of Unitarian belief, there is a growing demand in 
that quarter for views of the work of Christ which reach beyond 
the old standards, which promise a profounder peace to the heart, 
and which, while they magnify the cross, attach a more valid and 
sufficing efficacy to the whole mediatorial humiliation and spiritual 
sacrifice of the Son of God. How this demand is to be satisfied is 
not, perhaps, altogether clear. That it is to be by going to the New 
Testament with a simple and a childlike confidence, and not to 
ecclesiastical creeds, we are very sure. After all, it is in our purest and 
highest devotional moods that the language of the cross becomes 
most natural and unquestionable to us ; and that which we stumble 
at in cool debate, we take up with eager and delighted acceptance 
in prayers and hymns. Should it prove that a ground can ulti- 
mately be found where such minds as we have referred to, and minds 
of Orthodox training, can stand together, we shall not mourn nor be 
frightened, but rejoice and take courage, thanking God. It is to be 
hoped that no portion of the Unitarian denomination will draw it- 
self up into an attitude of impatience or protest at these inquiries ; 
partly because such a course would be unworthy of the antecedents 
and pretensions of a liberal body, and partly because it would be 
feeble and ineffectual in its results. We live too late to be told 



31tt FREDERICK D. HUNTINGTON. 

again the imbecile lie that truth can be- protected by restricting 
earnest and right-hearted thought on any side ; and the liberality 
which is liberal only to the side of laxity, but bigoted towards the 
ancient forms of faith, is a kind we do not covet. If there are any 
of our readers who are displeased the moment the infallibility of 
Channing, or of a sect, is called in question, we must wish them well, 
and pass on. "Whenever the instructors of the Unitarian churches 
refuse to admit that there can be any other view of the reconcilia- 
tion than that which makes it consist in the exemplary and inci- 
dental value of a consistent termination of a blameless and miracu- 
lous career in a human Christ, many of those they have been called 
to teach will turn elsewhere for spiritual nourishment, as some are 
already doing. Indeed, in proportion as the heart is impressed more 
and more deeply with the two great facts which create the necessity 
of mediation and redemption, — viz., the immaculate holiness and 
sovereignty of God, or the irreconcilable hostility of the divine 
nature to sin, and the intense hatefulness and hideousness and hei- 
nousness of human disobedience and self-will, — just in that proportion 
will the above-mentioned doctrine of reconciliation prove as incom- 
petent as it is unevaugelical. 

" But it has been no part of our purpose in this paper to criticise 
the Unitarian position. We began merely with the intention to open 
the way for a reply to the ' Letter,' by showing how the subject lies 
before some minds ; but out of the abundance of the heart the 
mouth hath spoken much. To those who have intimated that the 
Unitarians will be alienated by strictures on their faults, or driven 
into depriving themselves of a real good because one ventures -to 
question their perfection, we have almost nothing to say. Such 
poor defenders slander the cause they undertake to espouse, more 
bitterly than all its enemies. There are, undoubtedly, some hearers 
who reward a prophet according to the smooth things he prophesies, 
ordain ministers expecting them to be flatterers of their prejudices, 
and applaud the speech that roundly assails all persons out of doors 
who cannot hear, either for profit or anger. But there are more 
valiant souls abroad, caring more to be right than to be approved. 
Karnes and articles are losing their former swav. The Church is 



CONCLUSION. 315 

to be fashioned anew by the Spirit of the Holy One. To make our 
pages humbly subservient to the will of that Spirit is our highest aim 
for them ; and, to that end, we propose to keep them independently 
open for reverential and earnest discussions, recognizing the exclusive 
claims of no sect, and standing under obligations for no patronage." 

The professorship occupied by Mr. Huntington has been recently 
established through an endowment from a wealthy and benevolent 
lady of Salem. He was elected to the place by the almost unani- 
mous vote of a large Board of Overseers, composed of both Ortho- 
dox and Unitarian Congreo-ationalists. And it is worthy of re- 
mark, as evidencing the universal esteem in which he is held, that 
the number of his invitations to preach on special religious occa- 
sions, such as ordinations and dedications, as well as to speak at lit- 
erary anniversaries, is for greater than that of any other clergyman 
in Massachusetts of his ministerial age. 

At the Commencement of 1855, Mr. Huntington received the 
Doctorate of Divinity from his Alma Mater. It is an interesting 
fact that Amherst College should simultaneously furnish a leading 
Professor to Harvard University, and Harvard a President* to Am- 
herst. It is fitting that one who goes to dwell amidst, and in 
turn to mould the culture of Boston and Cambridge, should have 
breathed the invigorating air of Western Massachusetts, and have 
ofteu looked up from the books and sports of youth to the " moun- 
tains which are round about her." It is well that the teacher of 
religious truth, who seeks to unite once more the parted bands of the 
New England Church, should know the views and prepossessions of 
both by experience and by intercourse. It is well that he be endowed 
with personal force, united to personal attractiveness ; with literary 
culture, both profound and generous ; and with a fitness for influ- 
encing ingenuous and ardent minds, which is singularly effective. 
The Future reveals a beautiful vision of Christian Union, possibly born 
within, and nurtured by the very Institution which inaugurated the 
separation. Many hearts look towards it with prayer and faith. 

* Eev. W. A. Steams, D. D. 



LEONARD BACOX, 



THE NEW EXCiLAXD PEEACHEK. 



I hare fonglit a good fight : I have kept the faith." 



Rev, Leonard Baco>~. D. D,. w;-; : ;aaa in Detroit, Michigan, on 
the 19th of February, 1802. Hi; father was, foi several years, a 
missionary to the Indians, seat by the missionary sc aety : ! onee- 
ticnt ; and was afterwards a missionary to the new settlements. He 
iied in the year 1817, leaving three sons and foiir daughters. Hie 
first ten years of Dr.Bacon's life were passed ::: the most part in the 
: awns of Hudson and Tallrnadge, Ohio. At the age of ten, he was 
sent to Hartford, to an excellent school, where he was fitted for col- 
Lege, at the same rime riving in the family of an uncle. In the tall 
: 1817 he entered the Sophomore class of Yale College, whr: 
was is his sixteenth year. His class was an excellent one, numi^: 
ing in its rants many who have since become distinguished, among 
whom we would mention the names of President Wbofeeyj of Yale 
College; Professor Twining, the distinguished civil engineer; Pro- 
fessor Stoddard; Hon. J. H, Broekway, of Connecticut; Hon. 
nett Duncan, of Kentucky; and ATaater Edwards, Esq.. of Xew 
York. Bacon was the youngest member of the class, ith one ex- 
ception. He had entere ] the Sophomore year in advance of his . i 
and preparation, firom the necessity to complete his prepared 
able. Eat. in spite of his youth and aa 
vantages, he was an excellent scholar, and ranked high, though 
not among the highest. Yet he did nc nvely 

He mingled in debate considerably, toot an active 



EDUCATION SOCIETIES. 817 

interest in the literary societies, and was universally considered one 
of the best writers in his class. 

Thus we see that Leonard Bacon was the orphan son of a poor 
missionary, who, at death, left him for a legacy his good name, and 
the sympathies of a Christian community. He had few of this 
world's goods. Indeed he had none at all. Yet he was receiving 
the best literary and classical education that could be obtained in 
America. He had the advantages of libraries, of lectures, of phil- 
osophical apparatus, of social mental stimulus. If he had been the 
son of Baron Rothschild, he would hardly have had greater advan- 
tages. Indeed they would have been diminished ; for the excite- 
ment of necessity, the vigor of self-reliance, the independence of 
self-making, the security from the multiplied temptations of wealth, 
would have been taken away. He united the facilities of affluence 
with the propulsion of poverty. The way was clear before him, the 
energy strong within him. He could not but go ahead. When 
we know of such cases, and they are very many in this land, the 
heart swells with gratitude and admiration towards those noble ben- 
efactors of our race, who have manifested their judgment, as well 
as their generosity, by the endowment of our literary institutions. 
It is a refreshing circumstance in this world of inequalities, of 
hoarded wealth and pinching poverty, of wasteful abundance and 
desperate economy, that there is one arena where the rich man's 
first-born and the poor man's orphan may start from the same 
point, press on over the same course, and, with equal chance, strug- 
gle for the same prize. It is a proverb that republics are ungrateful. 
However true this may be, it should not be applied to those repub- 
lics which come into being with the formation of every congrega- 
tional church. There is gratitude among them, though its quantity 
may be in some instances minute. There is gratitude existing in a 
church of Christ, whatever name that church may bear. The or- 
phan of the missionaiy, who had spent his days in the service of 
the Church, was not left to struggle up unaided and destitute. He 
received of the abundance with which Heaven has blessed American 
Christians ; and though the gift was small — so small that no one 
ever imagined that it would beget extravagance — yet it was some- 



318 LEONARD BACON. 

thing. It saved its recipient from actual want. With close econ- 
omy, increased by some earnings of his own, it enabled him to 
complete his preparatory studies. However some may object to 
"Education Societies," yet we think no one can mourn that the 
Church, through such an organization, aided the son of one of her 
own devoted laborers. It was not a gift with which they endowed 
him. No ; it was a debt they owed him. And when such di- 
vines as Dr. Bacon are the fruits of this form of benevolence, who 
will not rejoice that a slight portion of the wealth of Christendom 
goes to the education of the children of the Church ? 

After his graduation at Yale, in the autumn of 1820, Mr. Bacon 
went to Andover, where he prosecuted his theological studies for 
four years. Within a few weeks after he left Andover, he com- 
menced preaching, by invitation, at the First Congregational Church 
of New Haven, the building of which is known by the name of 
"Centre Church." Over this church he was ordained pastor, in 
March, 1825, when he was twenty-three years of age. His two im- 
mediate predecessors were Professor Stuart, of Andover, who was 
dismissed, at his own request, on the 9th of January, 1810, after 
having served as pastor a little less than four years ; and Dr. Taylor, 
now Professor of the Theological Seminary at New Haven, who was 
dismissed in December, 1822, after a ministry of eleven and a half 
years, that he might accept the professorship. The first meeting for 
the establishment of this Church was held on the 14th of June, 
1639, when " all the free planters" were gathered in "Mr. Newman's 
barn ;" which building, thus immortalized in history, is supposed to 
have stood where the residence of Noah Webster now stands. 

The Church was gathered and organized on the 2 2d of the fol- 
lowing August. The present church edifice was erected in 1814- 
'15. During the winter of 1842, it was enlarged and refitted, and 
reopened for divine service on the 2d of March, 1843, on which 
occasion Dr. Bacon preached a sermon, from which we make the 
following extract : 

" The glory of this temple has been heretofore, that it has stood 
not for the private use and enjoyment of those who built it, or who, 
by succession from the original builders, have had, and ought to 



DEDICATION SERMON. 319 

have the control of it ; but rather as the house of God, to which, 
when the deep-toned bell gives out its signal, all alike, the rich and 
the poor, the high and the low, the citizen and the stranger, are in- 
vited to come and worship the Maker and Redeemer of all. Its 
glory has been that here, in times of religious awakening through 
the community, assembled thousands, crowding every aisle and 
corner, have listened in deepest silence to the preaching of the word ; 
that here in such assemblies, as well as in our ordinary Sabbath con- 
gregations, the thoughtless have been awakened, the awakened 
have been led to the Saviour of the lost, and angels invisible, be- 
fore the invisible God, have rejoiced over the repentance of sin- 
ners. Its glory has been, that from this spot has gone forth over 
the community, to aid in the formation and control of public opin- 
ion, a high, stern, moral influence, which the workers of iniquity 
have feared and hated. Its glory has been, that here so many 
great movements for the extension of the kingdom of Christ have 
found a hearing, and have received an additional impulse ; that 
here many a missionary going forth to his field of peril, has been 
set apart to his apostleship ; and that here the missionary, brought 
back, like Paul, to the place from which he had been commended 
to the grace of God, has stood up like Paul to rehearse, in our re- 
joicing ears, what God has wrought by him among the Gentiles. 
That lofty pulpit, now displaced, in which so many a servant of 
Christ has been consecrated to this work, for this or for some for- 
eign land, and in which so many an eloquent and earnest voice has 
spoken for God, for the soul, and for the cause of the world's re- 
demption, might well be regretted, if it had not been itself sent forth 
upon a mission. On the opposite side of the globe, in a land which 
has been made a Christian land by the labors of missionaries, some 
of the earliest of whom were ordained in that pulpit, there is now 
nearly completed a Christian temple, of stone, far more spacious 
than this, reared by the contributions and by the hands of converted 
savages ; and in that temple the Gospel is to be preached from our 
old pulpit, not indeed in our energetic English tongue, but in 
another language, soft and melodious as angel voices, a language in 
which tens of thousands have already found 



320 LEONABD BACON. 

' How sweet the name of Jesus sounds 
In a believer's ear.' 

That pulpit, gone upon its mission, is a pledge — all the historical as- 
sociations which, in our judgment and feelings, help to consecrate 
this edifice, are a pledge that the glory has not departed in the changes 
which we have been making ; that this house shall still be known 
and honored as the temple of our redeeming God; 'a house of 
prayer for all nations ;' — and shall be a centre of counsel, of influ- 
ence, and of enterprise, for the welfare of all around us, and for the 
salvation of the world." 

The Centre Church is happily situated in the centre of the beau- 
tiful square of New Haven. It is a building of simple architecture, 
and of harmonious proportions, crowned by a graceful spire that 
points aspiringly towards heaven. It is flanked by churches ; and as 
one sees these three edifices, standing there so closely together, yet 
distinct — on the same level, and in the same line — each with its 
own spire pointing to the same heaven — they seem a fit expression 
of the true unity of Christian sects — all standing on the same level, 
all marching in the same line, towards the same heaven — distinct, 
yet united ; individual in action, yet harmonious in purpose ; sepa- 
rated in form, but one in spirit. 

Dr. Bacon's church numbers between five hundred and six hun- 
dred members. Since its establishment, six other Congregational 
churches have been founded, and four of these since Dr. Bacon's 
settlement. There has ever been a most harmonious and happy 
state of feeling among his people. The warmth of charity has 
melted down whatever disagreements have arisen, and the breath of 
love has gently wafted away the gathering clouds of discontent. A 
spirit of forbearance is manifested by the majorities ; a readiness to 
yield, by minorities. All are united in their pastor ; they love him, 
they admire him, and the best part of the world approves them, 
for being proud of their minister. 

Becoming pastor of the church, as he did, at the early age of 
twenty-three, it is not strange that there were doubts whether he 
would sustain himself. But these doubts vanished years ago, and 
now one might as well doubt whether the church edifice could sus- 



HISTORICAL DISCOURSES. 321 

tain its spire. He is firmly established in the confidence and affec- 
tions of his people. It is a cheering sight to see that pastor, as- 
sisted by his five deacons, breaking the bread of life to the assem- 
bled hundreds of his church. It makes one feel more confidence in 
the redemption of the world, a firmer faith that the "good time corn- 
ins:" will be coming soon. 

The following paragraph, taken from Dr. Bacon's "Historical 
Discourses," published in 1839, in which he presents the history of 
his church, affords an appropriate conclusion to this brief sketch of 
his life. He thus notices the term of his own ministry with un- 
feigned modesty and quiet brevity : 

" The present pastor first stood in this pulpit on the first Sabbath 
in October, 1824, having been ordained the week before to the work 
of an evangelist. He was installed on the 9th of March, 1825, and 
is now in the fourteenth year of his official relation to this church. 
The years 1828 and 1831 were years in which God was pleased to 
crown a most imperfect ministry with blessed success. The years 
1832, 1835, and 1837, though less distinguished than the two first 
mentioned, are also to be remembered with gratitude. 

" Having made this acknowledgment of the goodness of God, I 
will not attempt at this time to review my own ministry any further 
than to say, that in the constant kindness of a most affectionate 
people, in the wisdom and frankness with which those gifted with 
wisdom have ever been ready to counsel me, in the forbearance 
with which my imperfections and errors have been treated, and in 
the stimulus which the presence of an intelligent community, ac- 
customed to judge by the highest standards, has afforded, I have 
had great occasion for gratitude to the Providence that has cast my 
lot here, and for humiliation, that amid such advantages, my corre- 
spondent profiting has not been more manifest to all men." 

Dr. Bacon is esteemed one of the champions of Congregational- 
ism, and a thorough student of its theory. His mind was first 
awakened to see and understand the distinctive genius of the Con- 
gregational system, and what he regards as its advantages over the 
classical and diocesan systems of church government, by an elabo- 
rate and eloquent review of " Hawes's Tribute to the Memory of the 

21 



322 LEONARD BACON. 

Pilgrims," from the pen of the Rev. (now Dr.) Joshua Leavitt, pub- 
lished in the Christian Spectator, 1831. This article produced a 
wide and deep impression. Up to that date, it had been common in 
New England to argue for Congregationalism as against Episcopacy, 
but nobody, we believe, had found occasion to compare it distinctly 
with Presbyterianism, Yet we do not esteem Dr. Bacon as striking- 
ly sectarian. Indeed, on his return from the East in 1851, he ob- 
served with anxiety a tendency to sectarian Congregationalism 
growing up at the Northwest, and through the columns of " The 
Independent" he set himself to modify and counteract it. In May, 
1852, in the annual sermon before the American Home Missionary 
Society, entitled " The American Church," he states the underlying 
principle of Congregationalism in a manner free from the rancor of 
sectarianism. In this discourse, he claims that the strength of or- 
ganic Christianity is in the Parochial Church, and not in the Synod 
or Association ; and that, under our American political institutions, 
and under the force of our American history, there is a tendency to 
the development of this principle in every form of ecclesiastical gov- 
ernment. In May, 1854, he gave a discourse at the first anniversary 
of the Congregational Union, and repeated it as a " Dudleian Lecture" 
at Harvard College. 

It is the literary publications of Dr. Bacon which have for the 
most part established his wide reputation and effective influence. 
Besides all the sermons which he has been preaching for the last 
thirty-one years, and all the essays, discourses, and books which 
have appeared over his own name, he has published anonymous and 
fugitive articles enough to make, if collected, quite a number of vol- 
umes. There are few subjects connected with the advance of man- 
kind in knowledge or in righteousness, about which he has not 
written. The topics he has discussed are altogether too multifa- 
rious to be enumerated. For many years he has been doing edito- 
rial duty more or less. He was connected with " The Christian 
Spectator," commenced in 1829, and published ten years as a month- 
ly, then ten years as a quarterly, when it was merged in " The 
Biblical Repository." He is now chairman of the association which 
conducts " The New Englander," and senior editor of " The Inde- 



REVIEW ARTICLES. 323 

pendent^' With his many articles published in the " Spectator," we 
are not familiar. A series of essays on slavery, which first appeared 
in that periodical, have been embalmed in a book, which any one 
can procure who may wish to see this subject ably handled and 
thoroughly discussed, or may be anxious to get an insight into Dr. 
Bacon's views. His articles, published in " The New Englander," 
since its commencement in 1843, are esteemed the ablest produc- 
tions of his pen ; but as many of them appeared anonymously, and 
as their authorship is known to us, not from the author himself, and 
no permission to reveal it has been asked, we do not feel at liberty to 
present a list of them. On the 2 2d of December, 1838, he delivered 
the annual address before * The New England Society of the City of 
New York," which was published at the request of the Society. It 
presents a graphic history of the establishment of the Puritans in 
this countiy, and a candid, eloquent elucidation of their character. 

It is a noteworthy manifestation of Dr. Bacon's character, 
which the large number of his addresses illustrate, that he never 
declines any demand upon him by the public, from a regard to his 
personal reputation. He does not reflect whether he will have op- 
portunity to do himself justice, but whether he can do any service to 
the cause of education or of truth. Hence he is called upon, in 
emergencies, when most men invariably decline. He is always pre- 
pared, always has some thoughts on hand, either on paper or in his 
head, which he can present at the briefest warning, for the instruc- 
tion and enjoyment of an audience. He has a very happy way of 
introducing a subject or a thought, and makes many an agreeable 
turn to his remarks. He has delicacy and propriety of taste, and 
adapts his words to the occasion with great appropriateness. 

Dr. Bacon is remarkable for accuracy and extent of observation, 
and for power of generalization. He not only takes note of particu- 
lars, but from these he readily deduces general conclusions. He 
evinces these traits in his thorough and philosophical criticisms on 
political subjects, on church polities, and on matters of history. His 
numerous essays in these three departments are highly valued for 
their comprehensiveness of view, originality of thought, and cogency 
of argument Several political articles of his have been published 



324 LEOSAKD EACCtf. 

in " The Xew Englander," which are worthy of an experienced states- 
man, whether we regard the profoundness of the thought 01 the 

accuracy of the details. For history he has special fondness. He 
has paid much attention to the ecclesiastical and civil history of his 
adopted State. In 1838, he delivered a series of thirteen discourse?. 
on successive Sabbath evenings, from one of which we have already 
made an extract. They comprise a history of Xew Haven, from the es- 
tablishment of the government, two hundred years before, up to that 
time. These discourses were afterwards published, and make a 
large octavo volume of four hundred pages. They contain matter 
of great interest, not only historical, but biographical, and bear the 
evidence of laborious investigation. TTe can only allude to the 
book which he published for young Christians, and to the two pam- 
phlets he wrote with special reference to the good of the Congrega- 
tional Churches of Connecticut; the first in the form of letters to the 
Rev. G. A. Calhoun, and the second being an appeal for union. 

Dr. Bacon has a remarkable power of expression. His mind 
works with such ease and directness, that he is never at a loss for 
words with which to clothe his thoughts, clearly, concisely, and for- 
cibly. It is this which has enabled him to accomplish such a great 
amount of literary labor. This power is also exemplified in his ex- 
tempore speaking. He is distinguished from many platform orators 
in giving important thought, rather than in making appeals to the 
emotions or to the fancy. He feeds the mind more than he fires the 
feelings. There is something in all he says — something to be car- 
ried home by the hearer and thought over. His speeches all have 
" body'' to them. 

Clearness is the characteristic of his style, as it is of his thought. 
One is never at a loss to know what he means. He is never hon- 
estly misunderstood. His style has some embellishment, but is 
rather lucid than ornate, rather stately than beautiful. He has con- 
siderable poetic talent, which is evinced in the hymns of his produc- 
tion published in the collection used by the Congregational Churches 
of Connecticut, His imagination is well developed, though under 
perfect control. His power of sarcasm is equalled by few. He is 
continuallv restraining: its exercise. Of late vears he has indulged 



SINCERITY. 325 

less in it, and liis literary productions have borne a more winning 
and gentle character. He has at times what may be termed an ac- 
cumulative style. He goes on from one point to another, elabora- 
ting the thought more and more perfectly, rising higher and higher 
in eloquence of expression, till one is ready to exclaim, as a minister 
in his audience was once heard to do, " See ! see, how he towers !" 
An eloquent sermon published in "The National Preacher," for 1842, 
entitled " The Day Approaching," illustrates this quality. 

Dr. Bacon has stood for a long time before the public in bold 
relief. He has consequently been observed from various points and 
through a variety of media. Opinions have been formed from a 
single and partial exhibition of his inner life, and however distinct 
and prominent this exhibition may have been — for it could hardly 
be otherwise and belong to Dr. Bacon — yet such opinions cannot 
fail to be erroneous, whether formed of him or of any man. As 
judgments of one trait or of one manifestation, they may or may 
not be correct ; but they should never be adopted as a correct view 
of his character as a whole. Let him be seen in other circum- 
stances, and we have no doubt that these opinions would be ex- 
changed for those wholly different. Yet Dr. Bacon is not an incon- 
sistent man, nor an unstable man, nor a dissembler. He is pre- 
eminently the very opposite of these. Sincerity is the foundation 
of his character. He is a man thoroughly in earnest. He has the 
energy, the decision, and the zeal, which spring from heartfelt con- 
victions. Whatsoever he does, is done seriously, unwaveringly, and 
unflinchingly. This pervading element must be kept in mind. It 
must be the premise of every argument concerning him, the funda- 
mental element of every calculation; else the conclusions will be 
utterly wrong, as if in taking observations on the planets the sun 
be not reckoned as the centre of the system. Sincerity is the centre 
of his spiritual system. It imparts life, and vigor, and warmth, and 
impulse to all the parts, and controls the whole. Keeping this fact 
in view, any one of tolerable candor and accuracy, in observing the 
public or private acts of Dr. Bacon, will not be likely to err in the 
theory deduced, the correctness of which will be shown by the con • 
gisteney and oneness it imparts. 



326 LEONARD BACON. 

You see Dr. Bacon in a deliberative assembly of ministers. A 
proposition is presented for discussion. The principle involved is 
fundamental, or the precedent momentous. He rises to speak. For 
some minutes he proceeds calmly and considerately. But as he 
warms with the importance of the subject and the interest of the 
occasion, his brow contracts, the aspect of his face is stern and dark, 
his right arm brings down the oft-repeated and decisive gesture, the 
arguments roll out in hot succession and with overpowering weight, 
and he manifests no pity for the opposite side, however much pity 
he may feel, but goes on, pounding with his logic and piercing with 
his sarcasm, till every particle of life is annihilated in the principle 
he contests. The deed is done, and we ask, What is the impres- 
sion left in regard to Dr. Bacon's character ? That he is nothing 
more than an invincible disputant and a dogmatic wrangler ? X ot 
so. He is a sincere, bold, unyielding, indomitable defender of what 
he believes in his soul to be the truth. He debated, because he was 
conscious of being familiar with the subject, and he debated on that 
side, because it was to him the side of right. 

You read a certain one of Dr. Bacon's writings. "We have a par- 
ticular one in mind. It is not very profound or thorough. It is 
little better than witty and sarcastic. He is dealing with the polity 
of a church, for which he has slight respect. He gives some broad 
thrusts and makes some pointed hits. You say he is a mere par- 
tisan, who is more witty than wise, and more sarcastic than sound. 
Not so : he is not only one of these, but — he is all these. He can 
be witty and sarcastic. In the present instance he deems it right 
and best that he should be. Thinking it the true way, he follows 
in that way ; and he is sarcastic, without trying to be so or trying 
to seem so. He is all the while sincere. But in reading a dozen 
other articles, you will pronounce him to be truly profound, fair- 
minded, charitable, generous. So he is. He can see on all sides of 
a subject. He can take the stand-point of an opponent, which is 
difficult for many. He can apprehend a principle through all its 
details, however numerous, and in all its relations, however complex. 

Again, you hear of him as present at every association and at 
every anniversary. You see his debate reported at the one, and his 



MANNER. 327 

speech at the other. You read his motions and resolutions. You 
say he is seeking for power — that he is ambitious of management 
and of distinction. Here, again, first impressions have misled. He 
is not thinking of self; he is only ambitious to promote the welfare 
of the Church and the improvement of the world. He speaks be- 
cause he has something to say, and because his brethren insist upon 
his saying it. He does not impose himself upon a reluctant audi- 
ence. He is more often forced to speak when reluctant himself. 

Again, you attend his church. He has few notes before him, or 
perhaps a sermon which reveals its antiquity by the hue of the 
paper. He preaches quite well, but not very eloquently ; indeed 
you suspect he is a little dull. You anticipated something remark- 
able, and you are disappointed. You are inclined to think that he 
has shirked severity of thought. Yet precisely the opposite is the 
fact. He has unexpectedly been called upon for a Commencement 
address, or for an article for " The New Englander," or for an ex- 
tra editorial for " The Independent," or for a defence of New Haven 
theology — and so he has been hard at work in another field of la- 
bor ; and, worn out with the week's toil, has fitted up a discourse 
for the pulpit late on Saturday night. 

Again, you call on Dr. Bacon. He comes out of his study to 
see you promptly — for he answers to every call — but he has the 
same stern aspect and the same overhanging brow. He meets you 
politely, but not rapturously. You pronounce him cold-hearted or 
austere, while in truth he is at the very antipodes of coldness or 
austerity. He was in thought when you came in, the trace is on 
his brow, and he is too sincere to be " delighted" at the interruption. 
See him with his intimate friends — mark the cordiality, the fond- 
ness, the confiding revelation of his thoughts and emotions and pur- 
poses ; see him in the social circle of his brethren — join with them 
in the unwearied listening to his original thoughts, his flashes of 
wit, his sparkling anecdotes ; see him in the family circle, mani- 
festing the warm love, the affectionate interest, the kindly sym- 
pathy for each and all — and you will wonder that you ever es- 
teemed him cold at heart. 

Dr. Bacon evinces his sincerity in the character of his preaching. 



328 LEONARD BACON. 

It is plain, practical, pointed. It is not brilliant, though it is im- 
pressive. It is sound rather than striking, earnest rather than elo- 
quent. From the beginning of his ministry it has been a principle 
with him to preach habitually on the familiar topics, the loci com- 
munes, of Christian truth ; to be purposely commonplace, not only 
in the subject of sermons, but also in the use of that class of dic- 
tion and statement which is familiar to all religiously educated 
people. We refer now to his usual preaching. Some of his ser- 
mons are of kindling eloquence, and of marked originality. And 
the congregation which is favored with the ministrations of such a 
man, may well afford to dispense with the benefit of uninterrupted 
oratory, in exchange for the satisfaction of knowing that their pas- 
tor is working for the world when he is not working for his own 
people, and that he is establishing an influence abroad, which may 
also serve to strengthen his influence at home. 

He manifests his sincerity in his social deportment. He never 
flatters, or patronizes, or condescends, as some great men and some 
great ministers do. He meets one on an equality, if he meet him 
at all. He expects the conversation to be reciprocal. He does not 
demand that you do all the hearing, and he do all the talking, 
though that is the arrangement most prefer when with him. He 
so often leads in conversation, not because he has taken the lead, 
but because others fall behind, and leave him in the van — from 
which stand he has too much courage to shrink, and too much 
self-knowledge to retreat. In manner he is polite, unaffected, con- 
siderate. He meets as an equal every honorable member of the 
" great brotherhood of man." 

Dr. Bacon loves freedom, both in Church and in State, and he 
equally hates oppression. His sympathies are immediately aroused, 
and his aid enlisted by the least sign of tyranny. He would never 
vote for the silencing of a godly, eloquent, truth-seeking brother, 
who had chanced, in his investigations, to arrive at a different the- 
ological conclusion from the majority of his brethren. He would 
do every thing to promote free discussion. He is fond of it him- 
self, and he excels in it. His power has led him into much writing 
and speaking of this character. If an outpost of theology is to be 



TYPE OF NEW ENGLAND. 329 

defended, or a citadel of error stormed, the brethren say, Dr. Bacon 
is the man to do it, and so Dr. Bacon does it. This love of freedom 
moves his spirit strongly against southern slavery. Yet he is not 
an ultraist, as some have esteemed him. On the contrary, he has 
bravely breasted fanaticism. He was one of the earliest and ablest 
advocates of the Colonization Society. He is thoroughly interested 
in the great benevolent societies of the day, and their active sup- 
porter. It is worthy of note, that his congregation contribute be- 
tween five and six thousand dollars each year for these efficient al- 
moners of Christianity. 

Dr. Bacon was married, in 1825, to Lucy, the daughter of Caleb 
Johnson, Esquire, of Johnstown, New York, who died in 1844, 
leaving eight children (one having died in infancy), of whom two 
Save followed her, — a son, Benjamin "YVisner Bacon, in January, 
1848, who had been graduated at Yale College the previous sum- 
mer with high honor; and a daughter, who bore her mother's 
name, and who died in 1853, in her fourteenth year. In 1847, 
Dr. Bacon was married to a daughter of the late Hon. Nathaniel 
Terry, of Hartford ; and three children have been given the parents 
in the place of the three whom God had taken away. One son, 
Rev. L. W. Bacon, has already acquired considerable reputation as a 
writer and reviewer. Another son is a physician in Texas, and a 
man of reliable character and excellent position. 

It will be seen that Dr. Bacon embodies to a remarkable degree 
the distinctive features of New England character and New England 
theology. He has the New England self-reliance, energy, and adapta- 
tion. He turns his hand, or rather his head, to a variety of topics, 
and is successful in all. He has the dogged industry and the elastic 
perseverance of the race, together with their keenness, shrewdness, 
good sense, and humor. He has their innate fondness for contro- 
versy, their tact in dialectics, their love for investigation. He has 
the New England firmness and compactness of mental structure, 
tough and knotty in its natural state, but susceptible of the highest 
polish, and often wrought into beautiful forms. He has the New 
England impatience of any control which is not self-control — -together 
with her cautious conservatism — which projects itself in the Repub- 



330 LEONARD BACON. 

lican State and the Congregational Church. And, finally, he has 
studied her history, and written it, and become identified with it, 
not alone through acquisition, but by his own life. He is the New 
England preacher. If a congress of representative men were to as- 
semble in London, New England might well send Leonard Bacon 
of New Haven. 







t^ 




rr^L e^Cu a, ret. 





THEODORE LEMARD CUYLER, 



THE REFORMER AND PREACHER. 



" The only son of his mother, and she was a widow.' 



The American Pulpit includes not a few preachers characterized 
by their advocacy of what are styled " the Reforms of the day," 
of which, for many years, the Temperance Reform has been the 
chief. These preachers are not confined to any one denomination. 
Tyng of the Episcopal, Barnes of the Presbyterian, Beecher and 
Kirk of the Congregational, Chapin of the Restorationist, Osgood of 
the Unitarian, Cuyler of the Dutch Church, and others, are pro- 
nounced " Reformers." Neither do they all advocate every Reform 
movement, unless we except the Temperance Reform, in which they 
are united. One is distinguished for his zeal in behalf of the 
" Children's Aid Society," another in behalf of " Homes for the 
Friendless," another in behalf of the Slave, and another for his de- 
nunciation of Theatres and Gambling. But they have two charac- 
teristics in common. They are all extempore preachers, and they 
are all beneficent Christians. " Out of the abundance of the heart the 
mouth speaketh," is their descriptive point. The ground on which 
they meet is the popular platform, and the bond of union, their 
sympathy with human misery, their faith in human restoration, and 
their belief that external relief precedes internal regeneration. They 
approach the religious nature not only directly by religious truth, 
but indirectly by bodily comforts. They prepare for heart-purifica- 
tion by first washing, clothing, and housing the body. They reform 



332 THEODORE LEDTARD CUYLER. 

destroying appetites by providing healthy and natural stimulants. 
They feed the hungry stomach before administering the " bread of 
life." They give to the unfortunate all those appliances of physical 
comfort, and agreeable surroundings, and social entertainments, 
which have been the means of preservation to the fortunate. Hope 
they rekindle, self-respect they support and protect, till, by slow de- 
grees and through long anxieties, it lifts its drooping form, and 
stands in the vigor and beauty of a new life. They give work to 
the hands, and occupation to the thoughts, and recreation to the 
leisure hours. They believe Christ taught that the amelioration of 
the Physical is a prerequisite to the elevation of the Moral. . Yet 
this class of " Reformers" and preachers do not make the pulpit 
secondary to the platform, nor physical regeneration an end in itself. 
The preaching of the Gospel is their main pursuit, and the salva- 
tion of the soul their chief purpose. Neither are pulpit ministra- 
tions deteriorated by platform harangues, nor is spirituality alloyed 
by attention to the physical ; on the contrary, the Gospel seems to 
shine with a richer lustre, and love to God burn with an intenser 
fire. 

We have selected Mr. Cuyler as the best representative of this 
class, because he is associated with a greater variety of reforms than 
any other, and because he includes all the characteristics of the 
class. He pleads in behalf of Mr. Brace's " Children's Aid So- 
ciety ;" he appears as the champion of Mr. Pease's " Five Points 
Mission ;" his labors in behalf of Temperance are unusual ; his sym- 
pathy for the oppressed of foreign lands, and for the enslaved of 
this, is deep and outspoken. He has also the gift of Extempore 
which distinguishes the class. He resembles Mr. Kirk in his power 
of arousing emotion and touching the tenderest sensibilities, differ- 
ing from him somewhat in the means. Mr. Kirk makes direct ap- 
peals of gentle persuasiveness or of thrilling paraphrase, with voice 
modulated so as to impart the greatest effect. Mr. Cuyler elabo- 
rates descriptions of thrilling circumstance, and deals in glowing 
imagery, in finely-wrought analogies, and in historical illustrations, 
which enchain attention and stir emotion. He resembles Gough in 
making outward delineation picture soul-experience. Take, for ex- 



CHARACTERISTICS OF HIS PREACHING. 333 

ample, Gough's noted portrayal of the downward career of the 
pleasure-seeker, by the analogy of a sailing party drawn into the 
Norway Maelstrom — the afternoon bright and still — the danger un 
known — the quiet propulsion of the outermost current enjoyed — 
the warnings of friends unheeded — the inner circle reached — the 
current swifter — the danger recognized — the frantic efforts — the 
snapping oars — the roar of the engulfing whirlpool — the shriek of 
the victims, and all is over I In such elaboration Mr. Cuyler delights 
and excels. 

In analogies from nature he is also very happy. We heard a 
sermon on Regeneration from the text — " I will take away their 
stony heart and will give them a heart of flesh," in which the 
analogies were well adapted not only to secure attention, but to 
make permanent impression. Another sermon, from the text " The 
righteous shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon," developing the many 
resemblances between the real Christian and the cedar, was not 
only an ingenious, but an impressive presentation of the truth. In 
this he resembles Dr. Tyng, of whom he also reminds us in his pre- 
cision and emphasis of utterance and abruptness of close. 

These characteristics constitute the attraction of his preaching. 
He is a favorite with young men, like all those with whom, in 
our grouping, he is associated. His voice is strong, wider in 
its range than Mr. Beecher's, but not so sonorous and musical 
as Mr. Kirk's ; while he evolves power, by a swell of tone on 
the vowels, with more effect than either. In adaptation of gesture 
and personal presence he does not equal Mr. Kirk, as few do. 
Neither has he the dramatic picturing of thought, by look and atti- 
tude, peculiar to Mr. Beecher, yet he is not inferior to him in the 
department of gesture and action, producing by their means marked 
effect. He resembles Mr. Gough more nearly than any one, in the 
sphere of impassioned delivery. He has . much the same style of 
illustration and appeal, with the free use of voice and arm, though 
restrained somewhat by the place and subject, the sanctities of which 
do not allow unlimited sweep of declamation. In form he is a 
counterpart of Mr. Gough, and we may also add that in friendship they 
are brothers. And Mr. Cuyler resembles these three popular ora- 



334 THEODORE LEDYARD OtTYLER. 

tors — Kirk, Beecher, and Gough — in that peculiar friendly intona- 
tion which, at the outset, wins the hearer, and is an important ele- 
ment of their successful oratory. One is drawn insensibly within the 
circle of their influence by those genial tones which result, not from 
any special gift of musical utterance, but from the heart-sympathies 
and yearnings which always attend their ministrations to the people. 
And, finally, Mr. Cuyler resembles every individual of our group 
(except, perhaps, Mr. Barnes), in this, that their best expressions 
flow from the tongue and not from the pen, and that they attain 
their highest inspiration and fullest eloquence only before a sea of 
upturned faces. Indeed, it is not uncommon for Mr. Cuyler to 
forsake the notes before him, and, lifted on the wings of a more 
buoyant inspiration than that of the closet, soar away in the freer, 
stronger sweep of unpremeditated Extempore. 



BIOGRAPHY. 

Theodore L. Cuyler was born on the 10th of January, 1822, at 
Aurora, New York, a beautiful town on the shore of Cayuga Lake. 
His father, B. Ledyard Cuyler, was a young lawyer of great promise, 
and an intimate friend and room-mate at college of Gerritt Smith, 
with much the same oratorical power. He died at the age of 
twenty-nine, leaving Theodore, his only child, when four years old. 
Theodore's mother was Miss Louisa F. Morrell, a woman of strong 
intellect and active piety, who has always been the companion of 
her son, and now resides with him in New York. His great-grand- 
father was Rev. Dr. Johnes, who administered the sacrament to 
Washington during his winter encampment at Morristown, and was 
pastor of the church at Morristown for fifty years. Washington 
was much at his house, and Mr. Cuyler has now in his parlor the 
large china bowl out of which Washington was accustomed to drink 
his favorite beverage of chocolate when enjoying Dr. Johnes's hospi- 
tality. 

On the father's side Mr. Cuyler is related to John Ledyard, the 
traveller. His father's mother, Mary Ledyard, was a cousin. The 



BIOGRAPHY. 335 

family were of New London, Connecticut. Colonel William Led- 
yard, his great uncle, was an officer at the siege of Fort Griswold. 

Jacob Cuyler, who was mayor of Albany for thirty years, and the 
prince of conservative Dutch burgomasters, was an ancestor. 

Mr. Cuyler entered Princeton College in 1838, and was gradu- 
ated, at the age of nineteen, in 1841. His standing in every respect 
was of the best, excelling, however, in Belles-Lettres and in public 
speaking. His college life was very happy, partly in consequence of 
the kindness of Profeseor Henry, now superintendent of the Smith- 
sonian Institute, of whom he was somewhat of a protege, and to 
whom he is greatly indebted for happy influence and fruitful conversa- 
tions. He was also much in the family of Dr. Archibald Alexander. 

The next year after graduation he spent in Europe, and wrote 
sketches of foreign travel, and particularly of distinguished men — 
Wordsworth, Carlyle, and others — which attracted at the time con- 
siderable attention. And it is worthy of note, inasmuch as he was 
only twenty years old, that when at Glasgow he addressed the citi- 
zens, at the City Hall, on the first reception of Father Mathew. 

Mr. Cuyler entered the Princeton Theological Seminary in 1843, 
and was graduated in May, 1846. He spent the next six months 
in preaching at a small place in Wyoming Valley, opposite Wilkes- 
barre, the region immortalized by death and by poetry, of which 
Campbell writes : 

" On Susquehanna's side, fair Wyoming ! 

Although the wild-flowers on thy ruined wall 
And roofless homes, a sad remembrance bring 

Of what thy gentle people did befall : 
Yet thou wert once the loveliest land of all 

That see the Atlantic wave their morn restore. 
Sweet land ! may I thy lost delights recall, 

And paint thy Gertrude in her bowers of yore, 
"Whose beauty was the love of Pennsylvania's shore !" 

Dr. Murray, of Elizabethtown, New Jersey, preached at the same 
place in early life. 

In the autumn of 1846 he accepted a call to a Presbyterian Church 
at Burlington, New Jersey, where he remained three years. It was 



336 THEODOEE LEDYAKD CUYLER. 

an excellent place for him. His people were kind and true, and 
his audience, made up partly of cultivated people, and partly of an 
intelligent laboring population, stimulated him to cultivate the 
excellencies of simple discourse, together with those* of finished rhe- 
toric. He devoted himself much to writing and study, and had 
more time for them than at any day since. In the second year, an 
extensive and delightful revival occurred, in which the pastor was 
assisted by Dr. Bethune, then of Philadelphia, Dr. Van Rensselaer, 
of Burlington, and others. 

In the autumn of 1849 Mr. Cuyler accepted a call to gather a 
new congregation in Trenton, the capital of JSTew Jersey. This en- 
terprise was initiated principally by young men. The new society 
erected an elegant freestone church during the following year ; and 
Mr. Cuyler met the best expectations of his friends. 

In March, 1853, Mr. Cuyler was married to Annie E. Mathiot, 
daughter of the late Hon. Joshua Mathiot, member of Congress from 
the central district of Ohio. 

In May, 1853, he resigned his charge at Trenton to accept a call 
to the new Shawmut Congregational Church of Boston ; but some 
little bronchial trouble showing itself, and physicians objecting to the 
climate, he declined the proposal, and accepted a call to the " Market- 
street Reformed Dutch Church" of New York. 

At the time of Mr. Cuyler's graduation, he was urged to take 
charge of a quarterly review of the Presbyterian Church, published 
at Princeton. His characteristics are admirably adapted to editorial 
success ; and he would probably have entered the profession of the 
Press if his fondness for public speaking — a fondness inherited from 
his father, whom, indeed, he strikingly resembles— had not deterred 
him. While in the seminary, he spoke much at religious meetings, 
on the plan of 'Mr. Kirk's adoption, in neighboring school-houses and 
groves. He esteems this course the right one. It teaches one to 
speak : as Lord Brougham said, " One must first learn to speak, and 
then he can learn to speak welV During the last six years he has 
preached every Sabbath (with one exception) usually twice, and not 
infrequently three times. 

Mr. Cuyler has published a few sermons, and not a little in the 



337 

newspapers, over the signature of " T. L. C." Some of these brief 
articles have been collected in a small volume, entitled "Stray 
Arrows," issued by the Carters. His writings are favorites of the 
public, and usually, as editors say, " go the rounds." An editor 
once remarked, that he saw sentences of Mr. Cuyler's in his ex- 
changes oftener than those of any other man. 

He has published two Temperance Tracts, entitled " Somebody's 
Son" and u His Own Daughter." They apply to the practice of 
offering liquors to friends on New Year day, and are certainly very 
effective. We once heard Joseph Hoxie, of New York, say in a 
public meeting, that after having offered wine for twenty years, he 
should do it no more, for " Somebody's Son" had demolished his 
decanters. This tract has had a circulation of about one hundred 
thousand. Some of the best members of the Young Men's Chris- 
tian Association formed themselves into a volunteer force to spread 
it over the city before the New Year of 1855. And on one after- 
noon we remember how peculiar the effect was to see persons in 
cars, stages, and on sidewalks, having a two-leaved copy of " Some- 
body's Son." Probably fifty thousand people read it that day. 

Mr. Cuyler has been a regular contributor to "The Presbyterian a " 
and now writes for " The Christian Intelligencer," the organ of the 
Reformed Dutch Church. His sympathy with young men has led 
him to be also an - active supporter of the "Young Men's Christian 
Association." He delivered the last anniversary address ; has de- 
livered three or four discourses before its members, attended their 
meetings, and taken part in their debates. 

Probably Mr. Cuyler's forte in preaching lies in picturesque de- 
scription and the weaving in. of scenes and illustrations from Scrip- 
ture and from daily life. "When he preaches doctrinal sermons, he 
avoids technicalities. He is fond of narrative and biographical dis- 
courses. His texts are usually short, and those passages chosen 
which will arrest attention, such as, " Only believe ;" " What wilt 
thou i" " Stand, therefore ;" " Pray without ceasing ;" " Remem- 
ber ;" " What think ye of Christ ?" &c. 

He expends the most labor on the opening and close of a sermon, 
so far, at least, as style, rhetoric, and polish are concerned. He 

22 



338 THEODORE LEDTARD CUTLER. 

makes the opening attractive by some original form of illustration, 
and the close impressive by forcible appeal. Thus he enlists atten- 
tion at the outset, and leaves abiding effect at the conclusion. The 
following extracts ■will illustrate this. The first is the commence- 
ment of a sermon entitled " Faith and Works :" 

" The second chapter of the Epistle by James seems, to my mind, 
to describe a spiritual wedding. We are ' bidden to a marriage.' 
And, as at the olden marriage in Cana of Galilee, the Holy Master 
is present, and consummates the nuptials. The parties to be united 
are but symbolic personages, and yet are real and life-like, too. The 
bride is young and beautiful — ever young, and ever clothed upon 
with light as with a garment. Like Milton's Eve, she was 

' For softness formed, and sweet attractive grace.' 

Her face is clear as the day — her look is firm, and yet trustful. She 
is not of the earth, but Heaven-born, and wears her celestial parent- 
age in every lineament of her radiant countenance. Her name is 
Faith. She is the daughter of God. 

"And beside her stands one whose lusty form was made for 
deeds of daring and endurance. He is sinewy and athletic. There 
is valor in his eye, and ' cunning in his ten fingers,' and strength in 
his right arm. He was created to act, to do, to suffer. He was 
formed for strife and struggle. His name is Action. 

" With solemn rites, the two are joined in wedlock. They are 
both to love and both to obey. They are always to live, and move, 
and suffer, and conquer together. They are to be the fruitful parents 
of every thing good on earth. On them, while united, Jehovah 
pronounces a ' blessing' richer than that which gladdened the nup- 
tials of Isaac and Rebekah, or of Jacob and Leah. While united, 
they are to live, and grow, and conquer. When separated, they 
are to droop and perish. For each other, and in each other, and 
with each other, their days of struggle and of victory are to be 
passed, until time shall be no longer. And so Faith and Works 
were coupled by Infinite Wisdom ; and in the presence of the world 
it was solemnly announced, ' What God hath joined together, let 
not man put asunder.' 






"faith and works" sermon. 339 

" From that union have sprung a glorious progeny. All the 
mighty deeds which have ennobled and elevated humanity own 
that parentage. Faith and Action have been the source, under God, 
of eveiy thing good, and great, and enduring, in the Church of 
Christ ; the very Church itself exists through them. The early 
Apostles went out with their glad evangel to the nations, under this 
double impulse, and with this double watchword. It was not 
enough to ' believe my Gospel ;' they were also to * preach my 
Gospel.' It was not enough to love in the heart ; the whole life 
was to be an embodiment and outflow of love. It was not enough 
to have a meek and gentle spirit ; the young Church was to return 
good for evil, and thus overcome evil with good. The Church was 
not only to be sound in heart, but active in limb and sinew also. 
It was to be a militant Church, contending earnestly for the faith 
delivered to the saints — a courageous Church, standing fast for the 
Gospel — a suppliant Church, praying without ceasing — a busy 
Church, redeeming the time — a patient Church, bearing with all 
long-suffering — and a conquering Church, to evangelize all nations. 
Its model men were men of faith and action. Through that apos- 
tolic Iliad, the great Apostle seems to fly like a thunderbolt, kin- 
dling, and consuming ! He is all ablaze with zeal. At Lystra re- 
buking the deluded worshippers — at Jerusalem confronting the 
Phaiisee, and the rulers on the castle stairs — at Cesarsea startling 
Agrippa on his tribunal — at Rome preaching the reviled Gospel, 
both in his ( own hired house,' and in Caesar's palace — he is every- 
where the believer in full action, with the heart to feel, and the 
hand to do. And such have been God's true evangelists ever since. 
Such was Luther, the flaming iconoclast of Europe — to-day writing 
theses and commentaries, and to-morrow translating the Scriptures, 
or hurling fresh invective against the black domination of the Man 
of Sin. Such were Baxter, the indefatigable pastor ; Edwards, the 
perpetual thinker ; Neander, the perpetual student ; Owen, the per- 
petual writer ; Knox, the untiring reformer ; Whitefield, the untiring 
preacher ; and Chalmers, who appears to have been pastor, preacher, 
writer, thinker, and reformer, all in one. Brethren ! such may God 
honor us in being. A faith, sound as that of the Westminster As- 



340 THEODORE LEDYAKD CtJYLEE. 

sembly, will not save the dying world around us, unless it flows out 
into action. For 'wilt thou know, man!* and all men in all 
God's heritage, that ' as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith 
without works is dead also.' " 

The following are the opening passages of a Hew Year discourse : 

" The procession has at length passed by. The last lingerer has 
gone. We have seen its end. 

" It was a long, long procession, full thirty millions strong ! It 
began its melancholy march on New Year day, one year ago. It 
moved with ceaseless step — thousands treading at once. It kept 
moving ; and when the clock tolled twelve night before last, the last 
footfall was heard passing out into eternity. 

" In that procession — moving to black nodding plumes and solemn 
dirges — were the parent and the child, the husband and the clinging 
wife, the strong son and the tender daughter. Among them were 
the lover in his love, the hater in his hate, the vicious in his vice, 
the mourner in her sorrows, the saint in his joys, and the sinner in 
his sins. Great men trode by, with pride unsubdued to the end. 
Women of rank and beauty passed on — going down to ' darkness 
and the worm.' The outcast and the wretched stole along, unseen 
of men but seen by their Father in Heaven. A President of this 
Union was in that procession. England's first statesman was in that 
long array. Carolina's man of iron, John C. Calhoun, passed on a 
little way before him. The loving and venerated Wordsworth 
walked in it too, with gray head and tottering steps, but gathering 
flowers to the last. God's faithful ministers by scores walked in it ; 
and amid them that aged missionary who found his heaven of labor 
in Burmah until Jesus took him to a heaven of rest beside the crystal 
waters. 

" But who are all these ? Who make up that mighty array ? I 
answer — they are the dead of eighteen hundred and fifty ! They 
are all gone. Yesterday a new procession began to form, and 
perhaps you and I may join it. For 'man knoweth not his 
time.'" 

Mr. Cuyler once closed a discourse on Christ in the following 
words : 



SELECTIONS. 341 

u Whatever else you may see in heaven, my brother ! there is 
one sight you will be certain to behold. Whatever else you may 
hear, there is one anthem of music celestial that shall swell up sweet 
and seraphic upon your ear. 

" You will see all eyes fixed on one central Object. You will 
behold the flashing shower of golden crowns flung before the feet of 
one majestic Being. You will hear one great outburst of melody. 
The burden of the strain will be — ' Unto Him that loved us and 
washed us in His blood, be the praise and the dominion forever !' 
And the answering chorus from every grateful spirit is, ' Thou art 
worthy ! for Thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by Thy 
blood, and hast made us kings and priests unto Him forever !' No 
mortal's name shall be heard of then. Paul shall be lost sight of in 
the beatific gaze at Paul's Redeemer. Luther shall be unseen amid 
the worship of Him who was Luther's Reformer. John Calvin shall 
sing, None but Christ! And John Wesley shall shout back, None 
but Christ ! The princeliest intellect shall claim chorus with the 
humblest child in chanting, Worthy is the Lamb ! With one heart 
and one voice they will roll high the magnificent acclaim — ' Worthy 
is the Lamb that was slain to receive honor and glory and power 
and blessing forever and ever !' " 

The following paragraph was reported from the conclusion of a 
sermon on " The Time is Short :" 

" My friend, of threescore and ten ! the clock of your existence is 
nearly worn out. The wheels have grown rusty. The springs are 
corroded. Brush off the dust from its face, and you will see that 
the hands point almost to midnight. Your course is nearly run. 
The ' time is short' Prepare to meet thy God. Give thy heart 
and hopes and thoughts to Christ. And what thou doest, do 
quickly ! Before to-morrow morning, thy clock mo.y stop forever /" 

Mr. Cuyler does not apply discernment to analyze nice theological 
distinctions, but his language and illustration and observation are 
put to work on the actions and experiences and motives and sur- 
roundings of his hearers. He deals directly with the human race, 
and not with theological systems. His hearers find that the thoughts, 
the business, the wants, and the questionings, which have been with 



342 THEODOEE LEDTAED CUYLEE. 

them all the week, are made to stand forth in the light of the Gos- 
pel, and to he judged by the standard of God's righteous law. The 
Sabbath pours its discriminating light upon the six days of labor, 
and the human heart stands confronted before an aroused conscience 
through the fidelity of his descriptions and illustrations. It is this 
which induces the resemblance in his preaching to the oratory of 
the bar or the platform which is criticised by some. 

In this connection we will allude to his view of the Christian 
life, as not a gloomy life, not sacrificing happiness, not exchanging 
privileges here for greater joys hereafter ; but rather as a life full of 
gain and richness in this world. He rebukes those Christians 
who, in prayer or exhortation, speak in minor tones of having 
given up all for Christ, as if they had made a great sacrifice of 
good. 

Mr. Cuyier is a favorite platform speaker, and in much demand. 
During the last two years he has probably looked more people in 
the face than any other minister except Mr. Beecher. During the 
last year he has given about one hundred addresses, outside of his 
regular pulpit ministrations, many of which were platform speeches, 
before the largest audiences. He has spoken at nearly all the May 
anniversaries. His regular preaching includes two sermons on the 
Sabbath, a Thursday evening lecture, and a brief talk at the Tuesday 
evening prayer-meeting. 

It is a trait worthy of note in Mr. Cuyier, which, indeed, forms a 
part of that peculiar character which constitutes "the Reformer 
and Preacher," that he is not attracted by calls to large and 
established churches, but has felt, within himself, the desire to 
build up a church new from the beginning. This has marked his 
course thus far in life. His nature seems to demand the interest of 
an untried enterprise. Successful accomplishment is followed not 
by suitable enjoyment, but inspires to renewed efforts in some other 
field. 

It was this impulsion which bore him from Burlington to Tren- 
ton ; this which led him to look towards Boston ; and although his 
church in New York is not a new one (at which his predecessor, 
the distinguished Dr. Ferris, Chancellor of the University, preached 



CHUECH ACCESSIONS. 343 

for seventeen years), yet it had, also, the attraction of a new enter- 
prise. New York grows as the sea in some places encroaches on the 
continent ; warehouses and stores by steady pressure drive dwelling- 
houses and churches " up town." One after another is touched by 
the advancing tide, surrounded, undermined, and engulfed. Mr, 
Sommers's Nassau-street church is an instance ; St. George's Chapel 
is another ; but it is felt to be essential that there should be some 
churches " down town" to afford religious privileges to the residents 
who still cling to the lower part of the city, and also to the young 
men who find homes in the hotels and boarding-houses, which seek 
the neighborhood of business. Market-street Church was going 
the way of all down-town churches when Mr. Cuyler came. The 
enterprise was to anchor it in the advancing tide. It has been 
done. Old established families who were on the point of changing 
their church relations, have stayed. New families have come in — 
nearly one hundred during the last two years. Young men 
gather to hear him, so that on Sunday evening his church is 
crowded, at times, like Mr. Beecher's, with galleries and aisles full. 
Many attend his seOvdces who would not go anywhere else. Sev- 
eral thousand dollars have been expended the last year in refit- 
ting the church-building, so that it is of very cheerful aspect; 
and, happier than all, during the last winter a revival, quiet, 
thorough, and extensive in its character, has been granted his peo- 
ple, and the accessions to his church have been not only large, but 
embracing, to an unusual extent, business men in the strength of 
early manhood. 

In a sermon preached' in England, Mr. Kirk said, " It is a fact 
which none can dispute, that every minister of Christ may learn 
something by coming in close contact with the minds of his peo- 
ple. It is a grand mistake to wait at home and expect that our 
people will come to us ; we must go out in quest of them, and as- 
certain definitely what is their state of mind, and what impressions 
our sermons produce. We stay at home and study theology in our 
closets, till, by abstract meditation, we reach a point intellectually 
far beyond the reach of our people. We learn the meaning of 
technical words and terms, about which our people know compara- 



344 THEODOUE LEDYAKD CUYLER. 

tively nothing. We think they do, but in this we often labor under 
a great mistake. To us these words are talismans, calling up deep 
emotions ; to them they are cold and unmeaning. There are men, 
for instance, who throughout the whole week have been doing noth- 
ing hut counting pounds, shillings, and pence. They are in no way 
prepared either to listen to or to understand their minister on the 
Sabbath." 

Mr. Cuyler carries out the principle urged by Mr. Kirk. He min- 
gles freely and happily with his people. His feelings are social and 
sympathetic ; his conversation is fluent, and interspersed with illus- 
trative anecdote, lively metaphor, and felicitous quotation ; his man- 
ner natural, cordial, and frank ; his tone of voice full, encouraging, 
and also gentle ; so that he unites the gifts which elicit friendly 
feeling, promote freedom of social intercourse, and bind a pastor to 
his people by the innumerable threads of friendly intercourse, rather 
than by the one cable of a profound and distant reverence. Hence 
he combines to an unusual degree success in pastoral labor, with 
success in preaching. He teaches his people quite as much out of 
the pulpit as in it. He seeks to make his c*hurch an organized 
band who " go about doing good," in working sympathy with the 
poor and outcast. He also diffuses a zeal in "lengthening the 
cords and strengthening the stakes" of their own influence. Mr. 
Cuyler is accessible both in the parlor and in the pulpit. One is 
sure of hospitality at church as well as at home. 

One can little realize what a difference exists in different churches 
with respect to polite treatment of strangers, without a wide experi- 
ence. In some, all home-rules of politeness are ignored. The stranger 
is kept standing in the porch till every pewholder is seated. A 
surly sexton at last shows him to a pew, whose occupant looks a 
" What business have you here ?" No hymn-book or prayer-book 
is offered during the service, and no welcoming look is granted 
from beginning to end. In Christian contrast to this is Mr. Cuyler's 
church. As in Mr. Beecher's, an appointed number of the principal 
men of the society are occupied before service in pleasantly receiv- 
ing and seating strangers. " A welcome to our board, where is 
spread the bread of life " speaks from every pew, and fills the porch. 



CITY MISSION SERMON. 34:5 

Is there not a lesson to be learned of pew hospitality, which will 
do quite as much as pulpit eloquence to attract young men to the 
Gospel of Christ ? 

The following passages, taken from a discourse on City Missions, 
illustrate Mr. Cuyler's character as a " Reformer :" 

" By this time you may inquire — Where is the remedy ? "What 
can we do ? To these inquiries we would reply, that, as no clean 
result can come from an unclean source, the primal remedy is to 
purify the sources themselves. This work is a double one. It must 
be applied both to the body and to the soul. The external man and 
the internal man should both be reformed. Each one of these processes 
is essential. The second is by far the most important ; but in order 
to reach it, the first one must not be neglected. For it is no easy 
work to Christianize a ragged outcast, with a half dozen layers of 
filth all over his frame, and no bread in his mouth but what he gets 
by begging or stealing. It is no easy task to Christianize a child 
by two hours of Sabbath-school teaching, while the devil has un- 
disputed control over that child through all the hours of all the 
other six days of the week. It is no easy matter to make a vagrant 
girl obey either the seventh or the eighth commandment, if abso- 
lute want is driving her to theft or to the sale of her womanhood to 
buy her bread. The soul must be cared for, and the physical con- 
dition, too. The Bible and the tract should be given to these out- 
casts ; but a preliminary step is to do all we can to provide for them 
a clean face and a clean dress, and a better chance to live without 
crime. Let us endeavor to give them employment — to help them 
into places of livelihood. Let them learn to be, not paupers, but 
producers — not mendicants and plunderers, but self-respecting self- 
supporters. And then, with this care for the perishing body, let us 
give them the Gospel. ISTot as a cold abstraction or a theologic dog- 
ma do they need it, but as a plain, simple method of salvation, and 
as a practical rule of life. Let them have it free, and warm, and 
loving — just as it burst from Heaven in its fulness, just as it breathed 
from Calvary in its tenderness. Let it come to them in every pos- 
sible channel — through the teacher, through the tract visitor, through 
the school, through the mission church, and through the efforts of 



346 THEODORE LEDYARD CUYXEK. 

private Christians ; for all the disciples of Christ should covet a 
place in practical philanthropy." 

" As a community, we are one. Fifth Avenue is linked to the 
Five Points ; the dwellers on our elegant squares are at one with the 
dwellers in the pauper garrets. The advancement of each class is 
the advancement of the whole ; the degradation of one class im- 
perils all the rest. When one member suffers, all suffer. The self- 
styled ' conservative' may wrap himself about with his own selfish- 
ness, and on the gorgeous sofas of his tapestried drawing-room may 
shut his eyes and close his ears to the wants and woes of the 
* rabble' multitudes. He may say to us, ' Let them alone.' But 
will they let us alone ? Will they let Mm alone ? He may leave 
the dram-shop unprohibited, but will the dram-shop leave his sons 
untempted ? He may let the gaming-house go unsuppressed, but will 
the gamblers leave his clerk or apprentice untouched? He may refuse 
to make effort for the rescue of the wretched harlot who treads the 
midnight street, but she shall lay snares for him and his, perhaps to 
their undoing* He may allow the courts, and alleys, and cellars of 
the poor to fester in pollution and filth, but will the cholera, which 
they manufacture, hesitate to invade his lordly threshold? But 
there is a higher argument for Christian hearts than this. It is the 
double argument, based on the moral glory of saving immortal souls, 
and on the honor which every such triumph brings to our crucified 
Master " We close with — 

SIX THOUGHTS ON CHRISTIAN REFORM. 

" There are two great classes of reformers in our day. The one 
class hold that human nature can be advanced to its highest point 
without the atoning work of Christ or the inward influences of the 
Holy Spirit. They do not rely for human reformation on the Gospel 
of the cross, but on cleanly habits, fresh air, good wages, temperate 
living, mental culture, and the moral code of the Bible. This school 
are mainly Socinians, and embrace many earnest, kind-hearted labor- 
ers. In England their most distinguished leaders are Charles Dick- 
ens, the Howitts, Mr. Fox, Miss Martineau, and the writers in the 
' London Leader.' Mr. Kingsley, the author of 'Alton Locke,' 



SIX THOUGHTS ON CHKISTIAN REFOKM. 347 

holds some views in common with them. He is a Trinitarian, but 
abuses Calvinism roundly. In this country their most prominent 
representative-man and leader is Mr. Greeley, of the Tribune. The 
cardinal mistake of this school is, that man is an improvable being 
without the work of Christ and the Holy Spirit. 

" 2. The other school rely for human advancement mainly on the 
Gospel faithfully preached and practised. But the question is, What 
is the Gospel ? Sometimes it is restricted to Christ's atonement. 
Sometimes it is used to signify the whole Bible. Those who restrict 
it to its first meaning, and preach accordingly, undoubtedly commit 
a great error. Christ crucified is certainly the fundamental docrine 
of the pulpit, but faith in Christ is not all that God's servants are to 
preach. Paul preached more than that to Felix. He not only de- 
clared Christ his Master to the Roman ruler, but he thundered into 
the ears of his trembling auditor the individual sins of which that 
auditor was guilty — adultery, cruelty, and intemperance. He took a 
wide range, and yet brought all home to the ruler's startled con- 
science. Now on this very point lies the practical error of many of 
our second class of reformers. They would save men, and purify 
society, and advance the race, but do not unfold the whole Bible in 
its wide sweep of duty. 

"For example, this technically styled 'conservative' class insist (and 
rightly too) that intemperance is to be checked by the Gospel. But 
how ? By preaching only the doctrines of the redemption ? . It does 
not so strike us. Let the atonement be made most prominent, but 
also let God's teachers keep not back the perils of the wine-cup, and 
the terrific doom of the drunkard. Let them practice temperance, 
and preach out the complete Bible law of temperance too. Then 
individuals will be saved from the inebriate's grave, and public senti- 
ment purified at the same time. 

" So in regard to the curse of slavery. If removed, it is to be by 
the Gospel — the whole Bible, preached boldly and in love. Is it 
enough for the Southern minister to unfold only the way of salvation 
to his auditors? He has another work still assigned him by his 
Redeemer. Just imagine, that every Christian minister in Georgia 
should say (in substance) to his slaveholding auditor : ' The Bible 



348 THEODORE LEDYARD CUTLER. 

says, search the Scriptures. The law of Georgia forbids the slave 
to be taught. God must be obeyed, not man ; that law ought to be 
repealed, and if not repealed, practically disregarded, and these negro 
servants taught to read their Bibles.' Again: 'The Scriptures 
say that the husband and wife shall cleave together; therefore 
you shall not separate Aunt Chloe from Uncle Tom.' Again : 
' The child shall honor its father and mother. You shall not, there- 
fore, tear the negro child from its parents. Give to your bondmen 
their wages — Do unto them as ye would that they should do unto 
you.' 

" Now all these plain truths may be spoken out, in love, from eveiy 
Southern pulpit and every church court. The want of such utter- 
ances has gone far towards perpetuating the opprobrious system. 
If every minister of Christ would preach out the whole Bible to his 
plantation-auditor, it would do more real good, ten thousand fold, 
than all the fiery tracts of Garrison, and the gunpowder eloquence 
of Wendell Phillips. All that slavery needs to finish it is — the 
whole Bible, preached out, and carried out into practice. So 
with every other sin or popular evil. God's plan is to remove it 
by His law and the power of His grace. Only let men hear the 
entire law, and be made to see the sins of which they are guilty ; 
and that from these sins r when forsaken, Christ's blood can freely 
save them. 

" 3. The State may do much for Christian reform in this country. 
We are a republic. Every citizen is a ruler. Voting is not merely 
a privilege — it is a trust. It entails a duty. A Christian reformer 
can, therefore, help to make good laws, to establish statutes against 
lotteries, tippling-houses, brothels, adultery, &c. He can labor in 
slaveholding States for the repeal of odious and unchristian laws 
bearing on slavery, and for the extinction of^ie evil itself in a 
legalized way. Moral suasion underlies all legal improvements. But 
God's truth should be written on human statute-books as well as on 
human hearts. Here, too, we need the whole Book of God in order 
to exhibit man's every duty as a Christian and patriot. 

"4. The Church must not leave social reforms to 'outsiders.' 



SIX THOUGHTS ON CHRISTIAN REFORM. 34:9 

God's people have a divine motive to work, and a divine rule to 
work by. The temperance and the anti-slavery movements have 
suffered fearfully by being left to corrupt demagogues, to self-seekers, 
to headstrong enthusiasts, to men who fear not God, whether they 
'love their brother' or not. The cause of temperance, with its 
clear Bible warrants, and its lofty mission of mercy to the tempted 
and the perishing, has been trailed in the mire by strolling vaga- 
bonds and selfish intriguers for 'spoils.' This is partially the 
fault of the Church. Good men in the pulpit and without, might 
all do what the Frelinghuysens, the Barneses, the Lyman Beechers, 
and the Walworths have so nobly aimed to do. The Devil ' makes 
capital' out of a seeming indifference of many in the Church to. 
social ills and sorrows. The world needs the Church in every effort 
of reform. If the people of God even appear indifferent to admitted 
evils, skepticism is promoted by that very appearance. 

" 5. Every Christian is bound to be a thorough conservative, and 
a thorough radical at the same time. He is to be a radical in op- 
posing evil, that is, he must go to the root of the evil. Moral com- 
promises are invariably wrong. The Bible does not tolerate them. 
Half the work of good men is good for nothing because it is only 
half-work. God's word goes to the roots of things. At the same 
time that the Christian reformer is thoroughly radical in plucking 
up sin (or doing what God appoints him to do for that object), he 
is to be carefully conservative of every thing that is true, and good, 
and pure, and lovely, and of good report. He venerates the right. 
He reveals all that God has sanctioned. He goeth about the an- 
cient bulwarks which God has established, and ' telleth the towers' 
with humble loyalty and love. He is a man among men, but a 
child towards Jehovah. Such was Ezra, the ancient reformer. 
Such was Paul. Such was Luther; he lifted not his axe even 
against Romanism until God taught him that it was a Upas, and 
then he dealt his blows until Europe startled at the echo. 

"6. Every soul that loves God, and pities dying humanity, is called 
to the work of reform. The word reformer should be synonymous 
with Christian the world over. And next to faith in God and the 



350 THEODORE LED YARD CUTLER. 

cross, should be our faith in truth. The whole truth unconcealed 
and uncompromising. The truth as it is in Jesus. The truth as 
Paul preached it, and as stout martyrs have bled for it. It is like 
the sea. The mists of error may obscure it for a time — nights of 
prejudice may settle down on it, but there it is, ' still beating on with 
victorious pulse, and waiting for the day.' " 







• 



O^Vet^A t ^0-yC r 



SAMUEL HANSON COX. 



Upon earth there is not his like." 



Samuel Hanson Cox was bom August 25th, 1793. His father, 
James Cox, descended from the first settlers of Talbot county, Mary- 
land, was born in Dover, Kent county, Delaware, December 28, 
1766, and died in the city of Philadelphia, January 4, 1801, at the 
early age of thirty-four years. His mother, a native of Philadelphia, 
still lives in that city, in the eighty-eighth year of her age. They 
were members of the Society of Friends ; were married February 13, 
1791 ; removed from Philadelphia March 23, 1792, to Rah way, 
New Jersey, where, at Leesville, as now called, Samuel H. Cox was 
born. His father at that time was extensively engaged in mercan- 
tile pursuits in Pearl-street, New York, of the firm of Cox, White- 
head & Co. He was a man of energy, uprightness, and compre- 
hensive views, esteemed and honored by all who knew him. 

Of his father, Dr. Cox affectionately and truthfully says : " My 
father carefully educated me in the principles of Friends. He had 
a great reverence for the Holy Scriptures, a practical and conscien- 
tious regard for ' the Lord's day,' and boldness for the truth of re- 
ligion among its adversaries ; a nice sense of honor ; uniform decis- 
ion in the cause of virtue ; an unfeigned charitableness towards all 
serious Christians ; and an inflexible consistency of deportment. He 
was an example of universal* temperance: tenderly humane and 
self-denying in his offices of beneficence, and distinguished as the 
friend of the black man in all his degradations. In these respects 
his eldest son may be allowed to pay a tearful, solemn, and most 
affectionate tribute to his memory !" 



352 SAMUEL HANSON COX. 

His mother and family — three sons and two daughters — after 
their bereavement returned to Philadelphia. Here Samuel H. Cox 
attended school till, in the year 1811, he removed to Newark, New 
Jersey, in order to study law with the late William Halsey, Esq., 
an eminent counsellor in that city. Enthusiastic in the pursuit of 
his chosen profession, he prosecuted its studies with avidity and suc- 
cess, till November, 1812, when the subject of religion became chief 
in his thoughts, engaged his affections, and resulted in the change of 
his profession from law to theology. 

Of the youthful character of Dr. Cox, as exemplified in a religious 
direction, we shall best speak in his own words : 

" I would not here imply that sobriety and moderation were the 
early characteristics of my religion. I was impetuous ; decisive ; per- 
fectly assured ; ecstatically happy in God ; resolved to confess Jesus 
Christ anywhere ; anxious to show others the way to blessedness ; 
totally inexperienced, and not properly impressed with the necessity 
of experience in order to usefulness, supposing I should always 'walk 
in the light, as He is in the light,' and anticipating no reverses ; ig- 
norant of the wanton enmity men actually cherished against the 
Gospel ; and often inconsiderate in the way, place, time, and style of 
addressing them on the matters of religion. In principles, however, 
I have always been substantially the same ; nor do I know that, 
since the period of spiritual nativity, I have ever had one deep de- 
liberate doubt of the truth and excellence of Christianity, or of the 
general meaning of the Scriptures. Reverses, however, I did expe- 
rience — just as extreme, pungent, and complete as the joys that pre- 
ceded them were high. My hope left me after a few weeks, my 
joys all dried away, and the deepest melancholy of darkness that 
could be felt embowered me. I felt that I had been deluded, hypo- 
critically wild in my rejoicings; — not that I doubted religion: I 
doubted only myself! Thus extremes and opposites succeeded, 
till ' tribulation wrought patience.; and patience, experience ; and 
experience, hope;' and thus 'the God of all grace, who hath 
called us unto His eternal glory by Christ Jesus,' is wont to ac- 
complish his people — 'establish, strengthen, settle them; to Him 
be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.' — 1 Pet. v. 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 353- 

10, 11. I have since compared my feelings in religion to the vibra- 
tions of the pendulum of an open clock, whose first movements 
when energetically started, incline almost to cover one hundred and 
eighty degrees of the circle ; but gradually subsiding from extremes, 
and losing the momentum of extravagance, every movement be- 
comes more regular ; the deep central attraction influences more ; 
its motions arc more orderly and useful ; and at last it assumes that 
state of punctual and measured gravity which it keeps to the end of 
its 'appointed time;' and without which, however costly its ma- 
terial or polished its exterior, or comely its proportions, it would be 
of no utility. That I have gained the point of perfect regularity, I 
am very far from asserting ; but that I have held my way, in the 
main, progressive, I do believe, just as really as I know that I am 
still imperfect and have much to learn." 

Of his religious experiences, as given by himself, we deem the 
following extract worthy of attention, as interesting in matter, as 
illustrative of the man, and as a fair specimen of his style : 

" I became uneasy and troubled in spirit. I knew not the cause, 
nor even the nature of my unhappiness. Sinners under the special 
influence of the Spirit of God, a revival of religion, I had never 
seen. I knew not that any creature had ever felt as I felt, or that 
there was any excellence of nature or promise in such agitation. 
So pungent was the misery, so undefined and unappreciated the in- 
fluence, that I was not even aware of its connection with religion. 
Consequently I tried every means in my power to dissipate it. I 
went into company, frequented parties, invented sports, commenced 
the study of the French language with an accomplished French gen- 
tleman, whose manners and society pleased me, but whose prin- 
ciples of fatalism, and whose habits of profligacy, shocked me ; 
for, to these things I had not been habituated. Finding, at last, 
that every effort was vain, and every resource insipid, I resolved to 
study more diligently, to try to excel in my profession, and to pur- 
sue this, to the exclusion of every thing else, as my supreme good 
being then occupied in the office of a respectable counsellor, as a stu- 
dent of law. Hence I studied laboriously, and with a kind of fren- 
zied determination. I separated from associates, and tried to wear 

23 



"354: SAMUEL HANSON COX. 

the vizor of misanthropy, that I might keep all intruders at a dis- 
tance. Here a new misery disturbed me. I could not keep my 
mind, as formerly, on the topics and paragraphs of the law-book ! 
Not even the style of Blackstone, of which I had always been enam- 
ored, could retain my strangely discursive thoughts. I felt a kind 
of romantic curiosity to study the Scriptures, and made it a virtue 
to deny myself the pleasure. It appeared a random, unprofitable 
longing of the mind, that required, as it received, a resolute coercion. 
/ will study, was my half-angry motto. And so I did, laboriously, 
and to no purpose. I went over a page, perhaps ten times, and could 
not retain one line or thought of it. The book appeared like ' van- 
ity,' and the study like ' vexation of spirit.' Still I persevered ; grew 
daily more wretched ; and felt that I had no friend in the world to 
whom I could unbosom my sorrows and disburden my soul ! One 
day, while vacantly meditating over a law-book, not on its contents, 
but on the atheism of Diderot and other authors, officiously loaned 
me by my French instructor, and which I had perused and returned 
weeks before, it was strangely impressed on my mind that I had 
better turn atheist, if I could, for the sake of consistency ; for he is 
consistent, thought I, with himself, who, never worshipping God, 
also denies His existence ; but for me there is no such honor. I ac- 
knowledge His being, and live as if I had ascertained the contrary ! 
I was much agitated, but broke the somnium with my motto, / will 
study. Thus passed my days for many weeks ; till once, when par- 
ticularly chagrined at the lubricity of law in its contact with my 
efforts of mind to retain it, my attention was suddenly fixed and 
charmed with the volume. I felt a relief and a recreation of mind 
such as had long been unknown. My two diverse objects were un- 
expectedly blended ; the desire to investigate Scripture, and the re- 
solve to study, seemed to meet at once, and be strangely reconciled. 

" This unexpected pleasure was produced by the occurrence of a 
scriptural quotation from Matt. v. 25 : 'Agree with thine adversary 
quickly, whilst thou art in the way with him.' It was in the third 
volume of Blackstone, chap. 20, p. 298, on Pleading. 

" I was delightfully engrossed ; and finding that to proceed with 
regular study was to lose the attractive objects— was to launch out 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 355 

again into the inclement element, and that the margin of the page 
on which my eye then rested, referred me to the chapter and verse 
of the Pentateuch, where I might also study other words of that an- 
cient lawyer at large, I arose with alacrity (being then alone in the 
office), and went to that corner of the library where our learned pre- 
ceptor kept his very valuable volumes of theology* There I found a 
Bible, and, hastily snatching it, I was soon fixed in the perusal of 
the connection to which I was referred. Thus a quotation in a law- 
book was, in Providence, associated with my first or best convictions 
in religion. 

" Without more detail of incidents, dear to my memory, but of 
less interest to others, suffice it that I now commenced the reading 
of the Scriptures alone, and in good earnest. Conviction increased 
as I proceeded, and soon became overpowering. At last my knees 
bowed, my soul bowed with them, for the first time in my life ; I 
prayed, and solemnly devoted myself to the Author of my being and 
the hope of my soul, to be His forever, to follow Jesus Christ ' through 
good report and evil report ;' and by His ' strength made perfect in 
weakness,' to glorify Him in the ways of truth, through time and eter- 
nity. As soon as I had made this surrendry, conscious as I was of 
its unspeakable solemnity and perfect irretrievableness, I was assaulted 
with a fierce temptation, with a succession of ' fiery darts of the 
wicked' one, all mainly in this form : You have made a vow which 
you will never keep ; you have perjured your soul forever ; you are 
lost! You be religious! You are a hypocrite, a fool, a fiend! 
You will apostatize in less than three weeks, and, at last, make your 
bed in hell — a hateful, ruined wretch ! Alas ! thought I, it is cer- 
tainly true. I am wicked, and never felt worse than now that I wish 
to be good ! Here my sins began to disgorge themselves to my 
view. ' Sin revived, and I died — and the commandment, which was 
ordained to life, I found to be unto death. For sin, taking occasion 
by the commandment, deceived me, and by it slew me. Wherefore 
the law is holy, and the commandment holy, and just, and good.' 
And thus it was that sin ' became exceeding sinful' in my renewed 
perceptions. For several weeks my situation was wretched — inde- 
scribably wretched. I had plighted my being to serve my Maker ; 



356 8AMTTEL HAJfSOI? COX. 

but this implied that I should become qualified for the service that 
was spiritual, and filial, and august. Instead of this, it was gloom, 
sin, and fearful anticipation. I had no peace, and hope seemed & 
phantom of indefinite characteristics that continually eluded my 
grasp. 

" One thing that marked this dark hour, or rather month, in my 
memory, was a peculiar conviction of sin ; not only of its superla- 
tively evil nature, that deserves all that God denounces against it in 
His word, and that I was such a sinner as His truth describes ; but 
that I had sinned unutterably much against His Gospel, in slighting 
it, and specially against His holy Word, in daring to reason against 
it. The insolence and the insufferable abomination of such neglect 
of ' the oracles of God' appeared to me, as seen in the light of the 
goodness and the greatness of their adorable Author, astonishingly 
evil ! And I wondered why I was not in hell ; it seemed to me that 
I ought to go there, and that if I had any virtue I should approve of 
the righteousness and excellency of such a measure, as what ought to 
be. It seemed impossible that I should ever be saved — translated to 
those halcyon seats of God, and admitted to His holy presence for- 
ever. The degree of these exercises, depending, in part, as I now 
suppose, upon the singular ardency of my native temperament, I do 
not attempt to describe ; and would scarcely rehearse to my nearest 
friend the forms of excessive perturbation that harrowed up my soul 
till the fearful conflict was over. This occurred one night, on my 
knees, by my bedside. The service of prayer had before seemed at 
once impossible to be, by me, either omitted or performed. Then it 
was easy — it was delightful. How long I now continued praising, 
rather than praying, in this posture, I know not. But this I know f 
that my soul seemed absorbed in the glory of God— the chamber lu- 
minous with His presence, the universe glorious for His sake, while 
halleluias kept me delightfully awake until morning ! 

" The luminous appearance of the chamber and of the bed where 
I lay, contained from the sight of distant objects, which the darkness 
of a cloudy November night (1812) would have rendered invisible 
had there been no intervening drapery to deepen it, I have pur- 
posely mentioned, and now proceed to explain. A sober philosophy. 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 357 

as I then thought, and now know, can perfectly resolve it. The 
state of one's mind, in proportion to the intensity of its affections, as 
melancholy or mirthful, as vigorous or languid, as imaginative or 
plodding, imparts its own character to surrounding objects ; and 
often induces the sensation that the character is in the objects, and 
not in the mind. Nearly the same sentiment is more scientifically 
given by that great father of sound reasoning, Lord Bacon. A little 
obstinate rationality, as Dr. Johnson calls it, kept me then and since 
from the profound or the sublime of religious enthusiasm. Had I 
yielded to feeling, to imagination, and seeming revelation, at a time 
when the genuine influences of the Spirit of God (as I believe) had 
made me happy jn Him, and thrilled my soul with holy ravishment, 
I might have been a devout madman, inspired, or any thing else, in 
my own esteem. But the balance of my mind was restored by re- 
flection. ' The truth and soberness of Christianity induced that re- 
flection, and made me know that I ought to exercise my understand- 
ing, and ' try the spirits 1 in every direction, before I trusted them. 
The case of Col. Gardner I had previously heard or read, and it then 
recurred to me. Were it not, thought I, that I happen to know 
better, I could see and tell of prodigies, of angelic apparition and 
miraculous glory, as well as others ; #and now it seems clear to me 
how the excellent Gardiner was deceived, and how thousands of re- 
ligious enthusiasts first come by their commission. I ascribe it, un- 
der God, to the power of His written truth alone, that I became not 
then a disciple of moonshine and extravagance. The wonder is the 
greater, that I was by education predisposed to it. The spring of 
the affections, or zeal in religion, however genuine, requires the bal- 
ance-wheel of sound scriptural instruction to regulate its movements 
and secure its utility. Much am I indebted, whom nature made so 
ardent, and education so moulded to enthusiasm — much do I owe to 
the sober voice of Scripture, for all the steadiness of faith, the sobri- 
ety of character, and the uniformity of action, which I have been 
enabled, in some degree (yet imperfectly), to exemplify. ' Having 
therefore obtained help of God, I continue unto this day, witness- 
ing both to small and great, saying none other things than those 
which the prophets and Moses did say should come.' — Acts xxvi. 22. 



35 S SAMUEL HANSON COX. 

My soul has often leaped for joy and thankfulness that the Great 
Shepherd hath so led and kept me ! So will He keep forever all 
who truly trust Him." 

" Shortly after this I came to the conclusion that God had called 
me to the work of the ministry. I pass over the details of self- 
examination and trials in this relation, through which I was enabled 
to pass, by the help of God speaking to me in His word, and com- 
forting my soul at the throne of grace. I was licensed by the Pres- 
bytery of New York, in the month of October, 1816, to preach the 
Gospel ; and ordained to that office by the Presbytery of Jersey, at 
Mendham, July 1, 1817. 'Then Samuel took a stone, and set it 
between Mispeh and Shen, and called the name of it Ebex-ezek, 
saying, Hitherto hath the Lord helped us? " 

His studies in divinity were prosecuted partly under the direction 
of the late Rev. Dr. Richards, of Newark, and afterwards under that 
of the late Rev. Dr. J. P. Wilson, of Philadelphia, 

His life at Mendham, where he remained four years, was very 
happy. He was the only minister of any denomination in the place, 
his parish was extensive, his time, thoughts, and sympathies fully 
occupied, and his church increased in size and efficiency. 

In the autumn of 1820 M% Cox removed to New York, having 
accepted a second call from the Spring-street Presbyterian Church, 
Of the opening of his life here we are able to present his own inter- 
esting narration : 

" This church had become vacant eleven years from its organiza- 
tion, by the resignation of its first pastor, the late Rev. M. L. R. Per- 
rine, D. D., in May, 1820. This excellent man, and clear-sighted 
theologian, afterwards became professor in the Theological Seminary, 
Auburn, New York, till his death, February 12, 1836. His man- 
ners, so characteristically mild and non-aggressive, his way of read- 
ing every word of his sermons, the sparse population of that locality 
at the time, and other incidental causes of the sort, eventuated in 
the non-success of his pure and pious ministry. The congregation 
was small ; and so deeply in debt, and so increasingly embarrassed, 
that when I acceded to its charge, my friends deemed it an enter- 
prise of perilous uncertainty, and many seemed to enjoy their own 



SPRING-STREET CHURCH. 359 

over-wise prognostications of failure. With a young and growing 
family, I came to the city of New York, on a stipend of support re- 
latively much less than the income I resigned in Mendhain. There 
were other causes of severe probation, which I had to meet and feel 
in my new and more ample sphere. 

" The state of theology and its allied controversies at that time 
were the occasion of severe and all-surrounding trials. I was known 
for investigation and decision in my views ; as also to preach, as 
well as hold, the doctrine of the atonement of Christ, as in its own 
nature ample and applicable to all mankind ; as the necessary and 
the appropriate basis of salvation offered, virtually and in fact," at 
once consistently and sincerely, by God himself, to every creature, 
in the preaching of the Gospel. The other party held it to be 
limited every way to the elect alone ; and what a preacher held, or 
which of the two parties he joined, on this cardinal theme, was then 
the criterion of his standing, and indeed the great question ; as now, 
indeed, in altered times, it is not, or it seems not, so practically and 
socially important. I was by many regarded as a dangerous man — 
avoided, calumniated, and clandestinely opposed, with many a wise 
and prompt prophecy of my eventual departure from the faith, 
mainly on that account. Indeed, I found the infection working 
among my own people, and often counter- working the power of my 
scriptural ministrations. This induced a serious crisis, and I resolved 
manfully to preach on the subject, as the alternative of the demission 
of my pastorate. But this was like open war. As a prudent pastor, 
I first consulted the Elders of my church, who w r ere all conversant 
with existing relations, as my proper official advisers, under the con- 
stitution, and all of them my attached and confiding personal friends. 
They were struck w T ith surprise and fear at the question. With one 
accord they answered, ' No ! you will ruin us if you do. You are 
too youug in the city, in office, in life, to attempt so perilous a task. 
It will awaken controversy ; it will seem to invite it. It will make 
war, and probably insure failure. They are now afraid, and they 
will leave the church in droves. We are in debt and difficulty, and 
any special stir at this time would ruin us.' And so they said all. 
This indeed w T as a dilemma of terrible distress. To do what seemed 



360 SAMUEL HANSON COX. 

to be duty, was, in all human foreshowing, to destroy my influence, 
and probably to forfeit my place. To conform prudentially to the 
advice of the Session, was like violating conscience. Apart from the 
faithful counsels of my beloved partner and excellent companion in 
life, I seemed to have no earthly or human sympathizer or friend in 
need. I had One, however, that was superhuman, and to Him I 
had learned, not then first, to resort. The result was, that next 
Lord's day morning, at the last of the public notices, I announced, 
1 In the afternoon, by the will of God, I propose to preach a lecture, 
introductory to a series — perhaps twenty — on the great subject of 
the atonement of Christ; its nature, its necessity, its extent, its 
divine wisdom, and its glorious relations to the throne and the foot- 
stool, to God and to man ; in which I shall attempt to show and 
identify the true doctrine of the Holy Scriptures, at large, answering 
all current and important objections, and vindicating the truth of 
God and the proper basis of the ministrations of the Gospel, on that 
grand and cardinal topic of our faith.' 

" This made quite a sensation. All seemed to wait and wonder. I 
felt the crisis. The officers of the Church feared and communed 
with each other, in something like dismay. In the afternoon, the 
result seemed promising. The house was full — strangers, note-takers, 
sage watchers, heresy-hunters, and a mixed congregation, were there, 
in the galleries; and the result was perfect success. I received 
thanks, acknowledgments, and, above all, converts. The Church 
grew and prospered. The debt began to grow less and less. Many 
things now combined to confirm and augment this prosperous state 
of things. The house was too small for the people. In 1824 they 
began to build in Laight-street, corner of Varick. August 28, 1825, 
that sanctuary was occupied and dedicated. It was continually 
filled, and the Church became increasingly potential. In the great 
revival of 1830-31, its aisles were crowded with professing converts. 
On one occasion, 125 stood together there, and professed the religion 
of Christ, with joy and high decision — many of whom endure to this 
day, as Christians, bright and useful in the world." 

April 10, 1833, Dr. Cox sailed for Europe, his health being broken 
by great labors. He travelled extensively through Great Britain and 



u FIRST PEESBYTEKIAX CHURCH 5 ' OF BROOKLYN. 361 

Ireland ; as also in France, Switzerland, Germany, and Holland ; re- 
turning in about seven months with improved health. 

In the spring of 1834, Dr. Cox w T as invited to the Professorship of 
Sacred Rhetoric and Pastoral Theology at Auburn, which, on being 
renewed in the fall, was accepted. 

Here he remained till May, 1837, when he was ordained pastor of 
the First Presbyterian Church of Brooklyn, N. Y. He says, " My 
translation from the chair again to the pulpit, and especially in 
this vicinage of my former pastorate, was pregnant with events, 
and associated with results, partly foreseen, yet in great part utterly 
unanticipated, which exacted from my principles and my assiduities 
of service in the Church, new sacrifices and extraordinary efforts, 
both of severe trial and of perilous responsibility. The controver- 
sies and parties that had agitated the Presbyterian Church at large, 
chiefly in her ministry, yet increasingly, for mainly the whole of the 
present century, now found their crisis ; and the same month in 
which I was installed by the Presbytery of Xew York in the Brook- 
lyn Church, those memorable and monstrous acts of exscinding were 
accomplished in the General Assembly at Philadelphia, from whieh 
the bisection of that large and venerable communion necessarily re- 
sulted, and two denominations, as they are now organically distin- 
guished, then commenced their separate ministrations. As a lover 
of order and liberty, under the supremacy of constitutional law, in 
Church and in State, it was not according to my antecedents of char- 
acter or history, that I should be neutral, or indifferent at such a 
season of revolution and perilous aggressions, in the denomination 
of my cherished preference and attachment. My people, too, whose 
sympathies were mainly with me, needed a pastor, under God, who 
could meet the occasion and show himself a man ; indeed it was 
the desideratum in every church, as in the days of David, that 
officers should be found to guide them, competent and valiant, like 
' the children of Issachar, who were men that had understanding 
of the times, to know what Israel ought to do ; the heads of them 
were two hundred, and all their brethren w r ere at their command- 
ment.' " 

"The result was felicitous: the congregation was kept from con- 



- 



362 SAMUEL HANSON COX. 

fusion, and continually enlarged. On my retiring, the communi- 
cants of this Church were more than one thousand ; and for order, 
unity, soundness in the faith, religious preference and attachment, 
there are few churches, anywhere, more compact or exemplary and 
distinguished ; while in acts of munificence and deeds of Christian 
charity to mankind, their character is well established, their useful- 
ness steady and principled, and still increasing." 

In May, 1846, Dr. Cox was chosen Moderator of the General 
Assembly of the Presbyterian Church, and receiyed a unanimous 
vote of thanks, at the end of a difficult series of sessions of that 
venerable body, " for the ability, impartiality, and kindness" with 
which he had presided over them, and conducted their deliberations 
to happy results. 

In August, 1846, Dr. Cox attended the meeting of the Evangeli- 
cal Alliance in London. He was shipwrecked on his return in the 
steamer Great Britain. 

On the last Sabbath of April, 1854, Dr. Cox preached his fare- 
well sermon to his Church, and retired to Owego, N. Y. : an affec- 
tion of the throat rendering it impossible for. him to fulfil all 
pastoral duties, especially in Brooklyn, as the sea air proved an 
excitant to the complaint. His health in other respects is excellent, 
and he preaches nearly every Sabbath. His people were very gene- 
rous in their farewell provision for their long-tried pastor. 

Dr. Cox was married April V, 1817, to the daughter of Rev. 
Aaron Cleaveland, of Connecticut. They have had six sons and 
nine daughters. Two sons and four daughters have been removed 
by death. They have a number of grand children. 

At the age of thirty-two the degree of D. D. was conferred on the 
subject of our sketch by Williams College, which gave occasion for 
the " semi-lunar fardels" letter, of which we reprint the first and best 
half. It is dated November 16, 1825, and addressed to the New 
York Observer : 

" Awake, my St. John ! leave all meaner things 
To low ambition and the pride of kings." — Essay ox Mas. 

u Messrs. Editors : — In your paper, I believe, the paragraph first 



363 

met my eye, that the Trustees of Williams College, Massachusetts, 
had taken with my name the very customary liberties of attaching 
D. D. to it. Through the same ' public organ of report,' I ask the 
privilege of announcing that / mil not accept of the appendage ! 
My name is my property, and my right to regulate it in the premises 
will not be questioned. 

" I know that the question will occur : Why this tardiness of two 
months ? It was not owing to any change of sentiment as to the 
perfect worthlessness of the bagatelle, or to its utter and cumbrous 
inutility, or to the injudicious frequency and indiscriminate com- 
monness of its modern conferment. Its frequency has made it 
' common,' if not ' unclean.' It has become the caricature of great- 
ness, the senility of colleges, and the nightmare of the Church. In 
the promiscuous dispersion of these honors, they are no test of com- 
petency ; talents are scarcely a recommendation, ignorance seldom a 
protection, juvenility itself no disqualification. For my own part, 1 
have ever and increasingly viewed the whole system, especially in 
the pure light of Heaven, as a fabric of theological foppery and 
dotage and disparagement, that does real harm, but no imaginable 
good ; unless it be good to help pride, envy, and worldly magnifi- 
cence into the places of consecrated affinity and hallowed relation. 
It seems ' a spot upon a vestal's robe, the worse for what it stains.' 
It ought to be put down, because it is too wretched to grace eleva- 
. tion, and too light to fall by its own weight. Down it must go, if 
the Church will but look at it, for it cannot bear inspection. Like 
other 'tares,' it grows while 'men sleep.' It is high time — the 
spirit of the age demands it — that this mania of graduating 
should itself be graduated, and that without favor, in the enlight- 
ened estimation of the public. Itaque Mud Cassianum, cui bono 
fuerit, in his personis valeat. The cui bono question, in reference 
to these academico-theological degrees, and for the best possible 
reason, has never been answered. It is an affair that belongs to 
another category ; it has nothing to do with good, but only with — 
honor. My tardiness, therefore, has not arisen from any hesitation 
as to the proper ponderosity of D. D. Feathers are soon weighed ; 
and some of superb hues, while they glitter in the sun, are remarka- 



364: SAMUEL HANSON COX. 

ble for levity and evanescence when they come in contact with the 
wind (Job xxi. 18). But the difficulty of my predicament is in the 
delicacy of its relations. I. cannot disenthrall myself without an 
invasion — seeming or real — of the prerogatives of the order. Your 
name must wear the semi-lunar fardels through life. Your memory 
will travel to your children's children, perhaps to the fourth genera- 
tion, under stride and pressure of the monstrous incubus. Some 
stragglers of a remoter posterity, that may never hear any thing 
about you, other than that Dr. Somebody was one of their ancestors, 
may be able to infer, from such premises, only that he was a clergy- 
man who owned and probably loved titles. I would rather that my 
posterity, as long as I am remembered at all, should know that I 
was a minister and disciple of Jesus Christ. If the angel of truth 
may be commissioned to write this on my tombstone, I should ask 
no other recognition in the present world. The condition of a 
clergyman unexpectedly doctorated, is in that respect so peculiarly 
trying, that sympathy can be expected only from experience. I 
never compassionated such a dilemma, nor entertained one brotherly 
idea of its severity, till I was myself a proper object of compassion. 
Several discreet and excellent friends of the laity advised me to the 
course of taciturnity. But I have ever found, when reflection has 
risen above mere impressions, that in his own case a man must at 
last be his own counsellor. 

• 
' ' One self-approving hour, whole years outweighs 

Of stupid starers, and of loud huzzas ; 

And more true joy the Christian ' exiled feels,' 

Than nionarchs ' with their senates at their heels !' " 

Dr. Cox states his leading ideas of faith and preaching in the fol- 
lowing words : 

" I consider the Gospel, as revealed in the Holy Scriptures, as a 
finished and glorious revelation of God to men ; as in system a grand 
and harmonious unit, never to be altered, sophisticated, or modified, 
by human wisdom or authority ; as a glorious deposit made with 
the Church for our vigilant conservation, our universal propagation, 
our personal conformity, our spiritual obedience ; and so for our sal- 



IDEAS OF FAITH AND PREACHING. 365 

ration and that of our precious offspring. Hence I have aimed to 
defend it, impartially and courageously, against all modifiers, all cor- 
rupters, all counterfeiters ; and in doing this, systematically and ha- 
bitually, it may not seem strange if sometimes I should have been 
misunderstood or maligned. To refute error and reject all substi- 
tutes for truth, is my necessary duty ; and I distinguish, if others do 
not, between personality and spite on the one hand, and refuting 
error in honor of truth on the other. Can we not love men without 
loving their errors ? May we not refute error, without transcending 
the legitimate boundaries of the commission, as ministers of Christ ? 
My preaching has been marked, and sometimes censured, too, for my 
uncompromising and all-pervading Protestantism. If my arguments 
could be refuted as easily as hated, it is possible that they would 
only have been either despised for their levity, or broken and dis- 
persed for want of structural solidity. Neither of these courses 
has been found by opponents as easy or as eligible as their own — 
which is the more vulgar one ! It may be far easier for some casuists 
to erect their own like or dislike into a criterion, than to meet argu- 
ment with superior evidence, and to break a proposition by the fair 
onset of honest demonstration. The Bible is my text-book, creed, 
and religion. It is the grand thesaurus of inspired wisdom ; and 
nothing is true or salutary that supersedes, or disparages, or contra- 
dicts it. It is the only inspired classic in the world ; for antiquity, 
unrivalled ; as for various other excellences, entirely paramount, 
pre-eminent, supreme. 

u If in all this view of the great matter I am at all in error, I err 
only with the greatest men, the most learned chieftains, the most 
illustrious leaders of the Church since the fathers of the Reforma- 
tion, or since the times of primitive antiquity, including the minis- 
trations of the apostles themselves. What God says is truth, with 
heaven and earth, time and eternity subordinate ; and all creation 
bound to do it homage, oral or written ; always incomparable, always 
the same. It is not, therefore, what says Paul, or Peter, or John, 
but what God says by any one of them, that commands my devout 
conformity." 

From the book entitled " Interviews, Memorable and Useful, from 



366 SAMUEL HANSON COX. 

Diary and Memory reproduced," published by the Harpers, we make 
the following extract, which is the close of an interview with two 
Mormon apostles, who introduced themselves with smooth words, 
Peking to make a convert of the divine. 

Dr. Cox says, " Pray, be quite calm. I can refute all that instantly 
on the authority of two apostles. Instead of liar, hypocrite, repro- 
bate, I am, you remember, ' Brother Cox, a man of God, a friend of 
truth, a lover of righteousness, and a preacher of the Gospel.' This 
is a great honor — quite a high and a memorable endorsement. It 
is, at least, the exalted character I had a few hours since. If I have 
it not yet, but have grown so bad all at once, as you now denounce 
me, it must be because I have been some time in your company. 
The ancients say — - 

Nemo repente turpissimus. 
That is, no man can get astray 
From rectitude's habitual way 
All in one moment, hour, or day. 

" But your recorded encomium, gentlemen, I shall remember, as 
I pray you not to forget it. Think what apostolic authority ! what 
rich commendation ! what a glorious epitaph ! Such honor never 
happened to me before. Few things in this world equal it. Some 
of your initiated disciples, real Latter-day Saints, might be lifted up 
with it above measure, might be spiritually proud — though I shall 
endeavor to keep some humility for all. It seems to me, gentlemen, 
that canonization itself from the Pope of Rome — yes, canonization 
itself, is inferior — not even this incomprehensible honor, with the 
entail of purgatory as a rare mercy and a pontiff's privilege, for 
about two thousand years only, can surpass, in my estimation, the 
apostolic honors you — 

" 1st Apostle. Sir, I have no respect or care for you. 

" 2d Apostle. Yes, sir ; hypocrite hardened — 

" Dr. Cox. Silence, gentlemen. You are now going rather too 
far. There seems no immediate prospect of my becoming a Latter- 
day saint, you perceive. It is the Lord's day, and I wish not to 
break it. I have read of the like before. You are just such apostles 



TRIALS IN HIS LIFE. 367 

proved as are described in Rev. ii. 2, and in 2 Cor. xi. 12-15. Go, 
read and ponder your character and your doom. You are base and 
horrible impostors. It is very plain who sent you, and how equally 
deceived and criminal you are in your inspired assurance ; that I 
was to be your convert and your champion, and as such promoted 
in your kingdom, and among your ■ kind of saints. I have done ! 
You need make no reply. Now, I have only two more things to 
say ; the first, this is my study ; ' the second, there is the door ; make 
rectillnears in quick time, and leave the premises immediately. I 
am not your brother or your dupe." 



TRIALS IN THE LIFE OF DR. COX. 

We have thus been enabled, by collections from various sources, 
to present a brief history of the life of Dr. Cox, which is almost au- 
tobiographical. His experience has been one of hearty work, of re- 
ciprocal affections, and, if we may judge by the additions to the 
Church, of remarkable fruits. It has also been one of an unusual 
number of emergencies. The beginning of his religious life was 
a trying experience, in the separation from the faith of his fathers 
and the sundering from his mother and his friends. 

The beginning of his professional life was a trying experience, as 
his orthodoxy was questioned by some of the Presbytery of Philadel- 
phia, before which he had presented himself for examination and 
his recognition as a minister bitterly opposed. He seemed at one 
time on the point of being left a discarded object of his early connec- 
tion and a rejected outcast of the new. 

The beginning of his New York life was a trying experience, which 
is described in his own words. And the opening of his Brooklyn 
life, which he also portrays, partook of the same character. In ad- 
dition, he at one time suffered severely as a champion of the anti- 
slavery cause, which experience deserves more than a mere reference. 

On the first day of October, 1833, there appeared throughout the 
city of New York postbills with the following call : 

" The Friends of the immediate Abolition of Slavery in the United 



368 SAMUEL HANSON COX. 

States are requested to meet at Clinton Hall, on Wednesday even- 
ing, 2d October, at half-past seven o'clock, to form a New York City 
Anti-slavery Society. 

" Committee : Joshua Leavitt, John Rankin, William Goodell, Wil- 
liam Green, Jr., Lewis Tappan." 

The signers (it is just to allow, in accordance with their own 
public asseverations, and the circumstances of the case) did not an- 
ticipate exciting disturbance or arousing opposition. But to their 
surprise, the newspapers took the matter up, denounced the move- 
ment and its originators, stirred up the people by inflammatory ap- 
peals, and declared that the monster of Anti-slavery must be either 
destroyed in the womb, or strangled on its first appearance. Such 
was the excitement and consequent dread of violence, that the 
Trustees of Clinton Hall declined to fulfil their engagement to let 
the Hall, and repeated applications for the use of other audience- 
rooms proved unavailing. In the mean time advertisements and 
postbills appeared throughout the city, inciting a rally of the people 
at Clinton Hall on the evening of October 2d, to crush out, at its 
first breath, the Anti-slavery movement. The call read as follows : 

"NOTICE. 
"to all persons from the south. 

" All persons interested in the object of a meeting called by J. 
Leavitt, W. Goodell, W. Greene, Jr., J. Rankin, and L. Tappan, at 
Clinton Hall, this evening, at seven o'clock, are requested to attend 
at the same hour and place. 

" (Signed) Many Southerners. 

" N. B. — All citizens who may feel disposed to manifest the true 
feeling of the State on this subject, are requested to attend." 

It happened that one of the signers to the Anti-slavery call was 
a trustee of Chatham-street Chapel;* and by his influence the 
lecture-room (which would hold about three hundred people), was 

* This Chapel is described in the sketch of Mr. Kirk. 



ANTI-SLAVERY RIOTS OF 1833-4. 369 

secured for the meeting, and word quietly disseminated to that 
effect. 

To the Southern meeting the crowd gathered at an early hour, 
and in immense numbers, and soon adjourned to Tammany Hall ; 
but " The Wigwam" was entirely too strait, and thousands filled thc- 
?pace in front. 

At the same time there gathered in Chatham-street Chapel 
(only a few blocks distant on a direct route) a company of fifty- 
three men (among whom were some of the Society of Friends), and 
one woman. From fear of disturbance, the iron gates of the yard 
were locked, and the doors of the lecture-room bolted. The chair- 
man of the meeting had hardly been selected, before the sexton 
whispered to him that a fierce crowd was gathering in front of the 
building. After prayer had been offered, it was remarked that in 
view of the gathering of a mob, it would be advisable, while exer- 
cising all due deliberation, to proceed to business with becoming 
promptness ; and the motion was made, seconded, and carried, that 
k, we do now form the Anti-slavery Society of New York." A 
committee was appointed to draft a constitution, which (as is usual 
on such occasions) was found to be already prepared with care. 
This was read, article by article ; two amendments proposed and 
accepted ; and the whole adopted. Officers were then elected ; a 
committee appointed to furnish an account of the meeting to the 
daily papers; and adjournment "without day," moved and carried. 
The meeting occupied thirty minutes. 

During this time the crowd outside had increased rapidly in size 
and excitement ; the sexton, as look-out, was reporting progress and 
advising expedition ; the iron gates were besieged and stormed ; the 
meeting inside deemed it prudent to retire through the secret pas- 
sages of the old theatre to the other street; and just as the last 
man vanished, the mob burst in through iron, and bars, and 
bolts — no, not the last man, for Isaac T. Hopper quietly asserted 
that it was against his principles thus to go out of a back door 
unless thrown out, and he alone met the sweeping tide.. "With his 
usual success, however, he sustained no violence, being " nothing 
but a Quaker," as the crowd said ; who, thereupon, proceeded to 

24 



370 SAMTEL HANSON cox. 

call a mock meeting, forcing into the chair a negro, whom they 
had brought with them, and giving him the name of Arthur Tap- 
pan. From " Arthur Tappan" therefore they demanded a speech, 
and the frightened negro was forced to stand up and talk. He 
spoke as follows : 

" Geminun" (cheers, and cries of " Go it, Arthur," " Stir up the 
nigger," ' ; That's it," " Three cheers for our side," &&, &"c.) ; " Gem- 
mmi, Fse a poor, ignorant nigger. I am not, gemmun, I am not 
com-pe-tent to speak before such an assembhage as what dis is." 
(Cries of ,; Go on, Go on.") ' ; Well, gemmun, if you insists that I 
go on, all I've got for to say is this, that my Bible tells me that God 
hath made of one blood all nations of men" (cheers and laughter) ; 
" and the Declaration of Independence, gemmun, says as that all men 
is created equal, and possessed of certain in-a^Y-nable rights, among 
which, gemmun, are life, liberty, and the — " (shouts, cheers, cries. 
and immense good-humor, in which fortunate state of feeling the 
crowd withdrew). 

Meanwhile, the " Committee on Publication" were hard at work 
preparing their account for the morning journals. Copies were fur- 
nished to the foremen about one o'clock — the efficacy of money de- 
monstrated, and the next morning the Courier and Enquirer had 
two articles — an editorial headed, " Great Public Meeting ! — The 
Agitators Defeated ! — The Constitution Triumphant !" and an 
article giving an account of the " Formation of the New York Anti- 
slavery Society." The •Journal of Commerce, in its editorial on the 
matter, used the following language :* 

* These ' many Southerners' were probably a handful of ' Northern 
fanatics,' who, not content with enjoying then* own opinions, and ut- 
tering them when and where they pleased, were anxious to prevent 
others from enjoying the same privilege. But whether Northern 
or Southern, they have mistaken the genius of our institutions, if 
they imagine a cause, be it ever so bad, can be permanently injured 
by such disgraceful proceedings. ' The blood of the martyrs,' it is 
said, ' is the seed of the Church ;' and persecution in any form, or 
against any set of opinions, is very apt to produce reaction. In this 

* Jour, Com., Oct. 3, 1833. 



ANTI-SLAVERY RIOTS OF 1833-4. 371 

country there is no suck thing as putting down error by physical 
force, or any thing equivalent thereto. If Fanny Wright and Robert 
Dale Owen, in their late mission to New York, had met with this 
kind of opposition, instead of being permitted to belch out their poi- 
son at pleasure, it is more than probable they would have found, 
both for themselves and their doctrines, a permanent lodgment 
among us. As it was, they soon exhausted their resources, and be- 
took themselves to other shores, followed by the pity and disgust of 
almost our whole population. Let us not be understood as alluding 
to this case for the sake of invidious comparison, but only for the 
purpose of illustration. The immediate Emancipationists, though 
embracing but a small part of our population, enroll among their 
numbers many gentlemen of exalted worth, and who, whatever may 
be their errors on this subject, will be remembered and honored long- 
after the tongues of their traducers shall be silent in the grave. 

" But it is not upon this ground merely, that we condemn the 
proceedings of last evening. Though the individuals referred to 
were men of the feeblest intellect and of the most worthless charac- 
ter, we would still maintain that they had as good a right to assem- 
ble and make speeches, free from interruption and insult, as any of 
their opposers. What sort of toleration is that which bears with 
those who agree with us in opinion ? Just such as may be found in 
Spain, or Turkey, or in the dominions of the Czar. The essence of 
toleration is, to bear with those who differ from us ; and with opin- 
ions which we hold in utter abhorrence. There are plenty of men 
in this country, and plenty of editors, who are staunch advocates of 
toleration on paper, but the moment you touch a subject in which 
they feel deeply, their liberality has vanished into smoke. Toleration 
is very good when it applies to themselves, but when it is called for 
in favor of others, and when they are the persons to exercise it, that 
alters the case materially. It is no longer your bull that has killed 
one of my oxen. ***** 

"We said that common interest required that public meetings 
should not be interrupted. For it is as easy to interrupt a Coloni- 
zation meeting as an Abolition meeting. A very few persons suf- 
fice to accomplish the object. They have only to make more noise 



372 SAMrEL BASSOS cox. 

than the speaker, and the work is done. And what enterprise, good 
or bad, has not its opposers- ? Xo one. Let, then, the principle be 
established, that any bevy of gentlemen or vagabonds may invade 
the peace of a meeting the design of which they disapprove (or 
profess to disapprove, for the sake of having a row), and what will 
be the consequence ? ~vYhy 7 that all public meetings will be at the 
mercy of the evil-minded. There is no line of distinction which 
can be drawn. We say, then, that all parties, on all subjects, are 
interested in putting down the disgraceful practice. 

" We are happy to believe that whoever else is implicated in the 
transactions of last evening, the Colonization Society is not. The 
• Commercial Advertiser,' which is more the organ of that Society 
than any other paper in this city, foresaw the interruption, and en- 
tered its protest against it. 

" After all, it appears that the immediate emancipationists out- 
generalled their opposers ; for while the latter were besieging Clin- 
ton Hall, or wasting wind at Tammany Hall, the former were 
quietly adopting their Constitution at Chatham-street Chapel. They 
had but just adjourned, we understand, when the din of the invading 
army, as it approached from Tammany Hall, fell upon their ears ; 
and before the audience was fairly out* of the Chapel, the flood 
poured in through the gates, as if they would take it by storm. 
But lo ! they were too late : the Anti-slavery Society had been 
formed, the Constitution adopted, and the meeting adjourned ! So 
they had nothing to do but go home. 

' The King of France, with eighty thousand men, 
Marched up the hill, and then marched down again.' " 

In reply to this, the " Cornier and Enquirer" levied a blazing 
broadside, of which we present the following missile : 

i; The ' Journal of Commerce' is the principal organ of Fanati- 
cism and Hypocrisy in this city ; the advocate of every measure 
calculated, directly or indirectly, to cast a stigma on the character 
of our country, our people, our wives, our mothers, sisters, and 
daughters."* 

* Courier and Enquirer, October 5. 1533. 



VIEWS OF THE PRESS. 373 

In another number, the "Courier and Enquirer" had the fol- 
lowing : 

" There can no longer be any doubt of the objects of these Fa- 
natics, nor of the tendency of their proceedings ; and it becomes the 
duty of every good citizen to frown upon them, as dangerous to the 
harmony of the country, and hazardous to the property and lives of 
our Southern brethren. 

" What, then, is to be done ? Are we tamely to look on, and see 
this most dangerous species of fanaticism extending itself through 
society, until at length it acquires a foothold among us sufficient to 
induce those partaking of it to array themselves openly, as they now 
are secretly, against the Constitution of the United States ? Or 
shall we, by promptly and fearlessly crushing this many-headed 
Hydra in the bud, expose the weakness, as well as the folly, 
madness, and mischief of these bold and dangerous men ? We 
confess this latter course appears to us the most proper, and, 
under all the circumstances, the only one which can with safety be 
pursued." 

After this, matters progressed without outbreak for several 
months ; the Anti-slavery Society gaining more and more strength, 
and the papers keeping the public mind more and more exasperated. 
On Friday, 4th of July, 1834, the celebration of the Society at 
Chatham-street Chapel was broken up by the noise of a band of 
disturbers. That evening the colored people were to have heard an 
oration from one of their number, as their observance of the day ; 
but this gathering was postponed Jill Monday. 

During the summer, it happened that the New York Musical So- 
ciety had rented the Chapel for Monday evenings, and on applica- 
tion to the trustees for its use by the colored people, they were 
referred to the directors of the Musical Society, who very readily 
consented, for a due consideration, and appointed their own meeting 
in the lecture-room, as the season of the year had reduced their 
gatherings to small dimensions. But unfortunately, the President 
of the Society was unaware of the arrangement, and entering the 
main room on Monday evening, was unexpectedly confronted by 
a crowded parquette of shining negroes, listening approvingly to an 



374 SAMUEL HANSON COX. 

orator of their own color. His antipathies were so outraged by 
the contrast to the scene familiar to his eye on Monday evenings, 
that after making some disturbance on his own account, he collected 
a band of about fifteen men, who, entering the building, endeavored 
to drag the colored speaker and his friends from the stage. But 
the negroes being rather stalwart and plucky, rallied against the 
intruders, and summarily pitched them out of windows and doors. 
This, of course, created a great excitement in the city, which was 
fanned into fury by the charge that the Musical Society had been 
defrauded of their regular meeting by the Trustees of the Chapel, 
for the sake of accommodating the colored people. 

At this time there resided in the city a colored clergyman, a 
member of the First Presbytery of New York, born in Virginia, 
nearly white, well educated, and the owner of considerable property, 
by the name of S. E. Cornish. One Sabbath, on going to hear 
Dr. Cox preach, he was invited to take a seat with one of the mem- 
bers in the body of the church. This circumstance was regarded as. 
an insult by other prominent members, who held a meeting after 
service, and expressed their indignation. Dr. Cox was a brother 
minister and personal friend of the obnoxious person, and moreover, 
as all know, a man of generous impulses and high sense of justice. 
It was inevitable that he should take sides with the hospitable mem- 
ber ; and thereupon he preached, on a succeeding evening, a sermon 
on the division of mankind into the five races, for the purpose of dis- 
pelling race-antipathies by the application of the Gospel idea of the 
brotherhood of man, and illustrated the folly of judging men according 
to color, by saying, among other things, that the Abyssinians made 
their devil a white man ; that Christ himself was not of our com- 
plexion ; that He was of the dark Syrian hue, probably darker than 
his brother Cornish, and if treated like him, would be turned out of 
the church. Thereupon the " Courier and Enquirer" stated, with 
fierce comments, that Dr. Cox had said in his pulpit, that " the Sa- 
viour of mankind was a negro." It needed only one more vigorous 
rub to evolve sufficient electricity to fire the populace of the city. 
The saying was passed from mouth to mouth. The excitement was 
intense. A clergyman now in Europe told us, as ilTustrative, that he 



ANTI-SLAVERY RIOTS OF 1833-4. 375 

heard a merchant at the time, in speaking of Dr. Cox, with clinched 
fist, say, "He's against slavery, and the South, and the Union! 
And would you believe it ? he called my Saviour a nigger ! G — d 
d — n him !" We hope to be pardoned these mystic letters, as 
nothing so well illustrates the queer mixture of religion, profanity, 
patiiotism, and bigotry, which made up the controlling persecution 
of the time. 

It did not take many days to bring matters to a head, especially 
as men from the South stopping at the hotels, and most of the 
editors vied with one another in fanning the excitement of the 
populace. 

On Tuesday evening, July 8th, a debating society at Clinton Hall, 
which was discussing the slavery question, was broken up by a mob. 
On Wednesday afternoon, as Lewis Tappan was sitting in his store 
in Pearl-street, a colored waiter from the " City Hotel" touched him 
on the shoulder, and said in a hurried under tone : " Mr. Tappan, 
your house will be mobbed to-night." " How do you know ?" " I 
hear the gentlemen talk so at dinner," and the unknown negro was 
gone. Before long some slight corroborating evidence came to Mr. 
Tappan, so that he left his store an hour earlier than usual, engaged 
a carriage, and pleasantly proposed to his wife and children to take a 
sunset ride, to which all happily acceded. The carriage went up 
Bowery, and on at last to Harlem, where supper was. ordered by the 
indulgent husband. Then he told his wife of his fears, and the 
night was spent at the hotel. The next morning the first paper 
opened contained in staring capitals, "Great Riot — Lewis Tappan's 
House Sacked." The thing was done. 

We have not space to describe the particulars of the riot. It was 
like all riots, which must be seen to be appreciated. 

It continued through Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday nights, 
increasing in intensity with its progress. On Wednesday night, be- 
sides Mr. Tappan's house, Chatham-street Chapel was mobbed, and 
also Bowery Theatre, because of an English actor, by the name of 
Farren, who had said somewhat offensive to American nationality. 
On Thursday night Dr. Cox's house and church were mobbed, and 
" Zion Church," occupied by a colored congregation. On Friday 



376 SAMUEL HANSOX COX. 

night Dr. Cox's Church was " finished," his house saved only by a 
strong military force, who barricaded the street ; the Church of Rev. 
Mr. Ludlow* sacked, and the windows and doors of his house de- 
molished ; St. Philip's Church (colored Episcopal), almost entirely 
destroyed, including a fine organ, and the furniture, which were 
brought out and burnt ; the African Baptist Church sacked ; the 
African Methodist Church totally demolished ; and dwelling-houses 
torn down or emptied, which accommodated nearly fifty colored 
families. 

On Saturday night it was planned to destroy all the Free Presby- 
terian churches, the offices of the obnoxious papers, and the houses 
of ministers and editors ; for it should be understood that hatred of 
the anti-slavery party was not the only propulsion of the mob. It 
included hatred of Christianity, of temperance, and of all moral re- 
forms. The Free Church Presbyterian system was making itself too 
manifestly felt by its aggressive movements, and it must be over- 
thrown by violence. But by this time magistrates and property 
holders, of whatever sentiments, had become thoroughly alarmed, 
troops were ordered out in large numbers, and efficient measures 
taken to preserve the peace of the city, which proved successful. 

In Mr. Tappan's house, adjoining the Friends' meeting-house in 
Rose-street, mirrors were broken ; much of the furniture piled in the 
street and partially burned ; parlors, bedrooms, and closets desolated ; 
indeed, every room in the house, except one small apartment, where 
Mr. Tappan kept his anti-slavery documents, papers, and books, which 
was left unmolested. Mr. Tappan sent his family into the country, 
and slept at his store. And there stood his house, for weeks unre- 
paired, visited by tens of thousands, preaching its silent sermon. Dr. 
Cox's house suffered less than Mr. Tappan's. His windows were 
broken, and his parlor strewn with stones, but his family escaped 
uninjured, and he himself passed out of his front door through the 
crowd without molestation, receiving only a sprinkling of dirt and 
insulting language. Several of his friends had mingled in the mob, 
and by some ingenuity restrained them. Dr. Cox and his family 

* Now Dr. Ludlow of Pougbieepsic. 



CHARACTERISTICS. 377 

soon went out of the city, and removed before long to Auburn, in 
accordance with the advice of friends. 

But time brings strange changes. It is just that the present po- 
sition of the chief actors in those scenes be noted. Dr. Cox has 
ceased to be an " agitator," and since 1850 has been a staunch de- 
fender of the "compromise measures," and is now a Vice-presi- 
dent of the " Southern Aid Society." Lewis Tappan and William 
Goodell have separated from the American Anti-slavery Society, and 
are now prominent supporters of the " American Abolition Society," 
which seeks the end of slavery through the political institutions of 
the country, as well as by moral means ; while the Anti-slavery So- 
ciety is consigned to Garrison, who would make " the exodus of the 
slave, over the ruins of the American Church and of the American 
Constitution." The Journal of Commerce has cleared its skirts of 
all taint of " Fanaticism," condemns all " slavery agitation," and saves 
the UDion. The Courier and Enquirer supports the Republican 
party, which enlists most of the anti-slavery sentiment of the North ; 
while Joshua Leavitt has clung to his position of 1833 with such 
immovable tenacity, that on-rolling public sontiment, at present so 
far from proclaiming him a "fanatic," is inclined to esteem him 
" the Conservative" among a corps of editors who control a leading 
religious newspaper. 



CHARACTERISTICS. 

We close with a brief criticism. Dr. Cox is a man of warm sen- 
sibilities, of ardent zeal, and great industry ; and he is also a man of 
marked peculiarities of style and manner. He is one of those speakers 
whom to hear once is to know thoroughly. He displays himself 
frankly and unreservedly. The characteristics are so striking that 
one sees them at a glance, and would recognize them, robed and 
turbaned, in the desert of Sahara. His manner is earnest and forci- 
ble, indeed somewhat impetuous. He is faithful in probing the con- 
science and affecting in his appeals. He manifests deep solicitude 
in his preaching ; and there is a sincerity and ardor in his whole 



378 SAMUEL HANSON COX. 

manner which touches the heart. He is vigorous in thought, and 
forcible in its presentation ; and he alwa) T s commands attention, not 
less by fervor of delivery than by exuberance of language and pecu- 
liar redundancy of remarkable words. He surpasses all in the out- 
pouring of sentences, and in the abundance of quotations. His 
memory is wonderful, and he uses it without reserve. His quotations, 
though so profuse, are accurate, and remarkably appropriate ; but he 
lacks logical order, or system of any kind; digressing, episoding, 
and returning upon his steps without law or method. As an exam- 
ple of his numerous episodes, we will allude to a sermon on the mir- 
acle of Christ, by which a woman was healed " who had an issue of 
blood twelve years, and had suffered many things of many phy- 
sicians." In speaking of this last fact, he pressed the point that the 
woman " rather grew worse." Checking himself, however, he insisted 
that he meant no disrespect to the " Faculty," among whom he was 
happy to number " valued, and esteemed, and intelligent, and scientific 
friends ;" and so proceeding, delivered a long and glowing eulogy 
of the medical profession ; describing the eminence it had attained, 
and the obligations of men and science to its astounding discoveries. 
When speaking of the woman's perseverance in touching the gar- 
ments of Christ, he said, " as an old Latin author magnificently ob- 
serves, ' aut viam inveniam aut faciam] or as the proverb expresses 
and eclaircises it — ' Where there's a will, there's a way.' " 

He himself says of his style, in the introduction to his principal 
book — 

" With respect to the style of this treatise, it is, perhaps, full of 
peculiarities, and those who know the writer will find them all his 
own. He is conscious also of their blemishes and faults. All he 
asks of the critic is to consider that the profession, on the score of 
taste, is quite as humble as the performance. A man should be 
himself at all times : peculiarities, eccentricities, and even inaccura- 
cies, are more tolerable than mimicry, affectation, and false con- 
sequence." 

Dr. Cox is not only remarkable for quotation, but he is .especially 
remarkable for quoting Latin. The classics are ever on his tongue, 
without regard to audience, time, or place. He evidently thinks in 



HIS PUBLIC LIFE. 379 

Latin, and such is the bent of his mind that he uses derivatives and 
base Latinisms far more than Saxon words. But the very pecu- 
liarities to be condemned in a speaker make him the life of the 
social circle. Here there is no need of rigid logic or condensed dis- 
course. With unfailing flow of words, animated manner, abundant 
wit, and excitable sympathies for one and all, he delights his com- 
panions by his illustrations, stories, and luxuriant expressions. 

We think Dr. Cox has always suffered, more or less, from lack 
of stern discipline, both of heart and mind. He seems to have 
missed the advantages of thorough training, systematic elementary 
study, and, above all, the moulding influence which unceasingly 
radiates from the great good man, gently bowing the strength of 
vouth to an attitude of reverence, humbling the pride of self-reliance, 
dispelling the conceit of boyish success, and transforming the pre- 
sumption of impetuous youth into the docile spirit of the devout 
learner. For a long number of years he has been in public life ; 
not only in the public life which the pulpit affords, a sphere some- 
what walled up and exclusive, but in the wider, freer public life, 
which belongs to the speaker's platform and the publisher's press. 
During these many years he has neither been idle, nor retiring, nor 
silent. He has been an active, working man, whose voice is heard, 
and whose presence is felt wherever he is. His energy of character 
has ever urged him to the van, while his natural enthusiasm has 
inspired him to seize the standard and ring out the battle-cry. 
When the cool judgment of others reined them in, his zeal was 
spurring him on. While some prefer, in the retirement of the study, 
quietly to build up the life-character, he has been fashioning his by 
bustling work in all the turmoil of stirring life. He did not hew the 
stones and fit the beams for his temple afar off in the solitary moun- 
tains, " that neither hammer, nor axe, nor any tool of iron, should 
be heard in the house while it was in building," but with the rough 
logs and unshapen rocks brought to his hand, he has been hewing and 
chiselling and hammering and rearing on Zion's hill, surrounded by 
busy life, and gazed at by all the passers-by, both of Jews and of 
Gentiles. Hence his name is a familiar word among all classes. 
While the retiring student is known only to the literary circle, and 



380 SAMUEL HANSON COX. 

at some publishing house or bookseller's stall; while the humble, 
faithful pastor lives and dies the beloved shepherd of his flock, least 
known to others, most known to them; while the metaphysician 
moves among the stars of the literary firmament, recognized by the 
multitude only in some sleepy interval between days of work, as 
some wonderful and useless light in the mysterious distance ; while 
almost every one has his favorite circle, Dr. Cox has in one way and 
another made himself heard and seen and felt throughout all classes. 
He is known in the literary world as the author of a large work 
entitled, "Quakerism not Christianity," and of several small and 
less important essays. He is distinguished in the religious world, 
not only as the theologian and divine, but also as a prime mover in 
the agitation of 1837, followed by the division of the Presbyterian 
Church ; as a leading promoter of the Evangelical Alliance ; as a 
professor in a Theological Seminary ; as a lecturer upon Sacred His- 
tory ; and, finally, as a strong New School Presbyterian. 

By his active participation in the cause of Temperance, his zeal in 
behalf of the Colonization Society, the Anti-slavery Society, and the 
Compromise measures successively, and by his prompt devotion to 
other great movements of the day, he has intertwined his interests 
with those of a large class of individuals who would perhaps be 
included in neither of the foregoing divisions. Finally, he is known 
and valued as the racy conversationist, the choice companion, and 
the faithful friend. 

Yet, as Job says, " great men are not always wise ;" and ardent 
men are not always safe. While the highest eulogium should be 
paid to the energy, the perseverance, the courage, the benevolence, 
and the zeal of Dr. Cox, we often think of the advice which he says 
was once given him by a good Quaker friend : " Samuel, thy mind 
is too active ; if thee wants peace, I can tell thee how to find it. 
Get still, get still, and thee shall come to know the hidden wisdom 
in the quiet of the flesh. I tell thee, my dear young friend, get 
still." 



381 



FRANCIS L. HAWKS. 



Learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians." 



*This eminent pulpit orator of the Protestant Episcopal Church 
was born in North Carolina, at Newbern, June 10, 1798. His 
grandfather came with the colonial governor Try on from England, 
and was employed as an architect in some of the prominent public 
works of the State, and was distinguished by his liberal opinions in 
the Revolution. 

He was graduated at the University of North Carolina, and prose- 
cuting the study of the law in the office of the Hon. William Gas- 
ton, was admitted to the bar at the age of twenty-one. He continued 
the practice of the law for several years in his native State, with dis- 
tinguished success. A memorial of his career at this period is left to 
the public in his four volumes of " Reports of Decisions in the Su- 
preme Court of North Carolina," 1820-26, and his " Digest of all 
the Cases decided and reported in North Carolina." In his twenty- 
third year he was elected to the Legislature of his State. 

His youth had been marked by its high tone of character, and his 
personal qualities and inclinations led him to the Church as his ap- 
propriate sphere. He was ordained by Bishop Ravenscroft, in 1827. 
His earliest ministerial duties were in charge of a congregation in 
New Haven. In 1829 he became the assistant minister of St. 
James's Church, Philadelphia, in which Bishop White was rector. 
The next year he was called to St. Stephen's Church in New York, 

* For this biography we are indebted to "Cyclopedia of American Litera- 
ture," by Evert A. Duyckinck and George L. Duyckinck ; published by Charles 
Scribner. 



I 



382 FRANCIS L. HAWKS, 

in which city his reputation for eloquence became at once perma» 
nently established. From St. Stephen's he passed to St. Thomas's 
Church in 1832, and continued his connection with the parish till 
his removal to Mississippi in 1844. During the latter period of his 
brilliant career at St. Thomas's, he was relieved from a portion of his 
city parochial labors by an assistant, and devoted himself to a liberal 
plan of education, which he had matured with great ability, and the 
details of which were faithfully carried out. He established at 
Flushing, Long Island, a boarding-school, to which he gave the 
name of St. Thomas's Hall. The grounds were prepared and the 
buildings erected by him ; a liberal provision was made for the in- 
struction and personal comforts of the students. He introduced order 
and method in all departments. Substantial comfort and prosperity 
pervaded the establishment on all sides. Unfortunately, the experi- 
ment fell upon a period of great commercial pressure, and the fruits 
of the hearty zeal, labor, and self-denial of its projector, were lost by 
its financial embarrassments. The failure of this institution was a 
serious loss - to the cause of education. Its success would have 
greatly assisted to elevate the standard of the frequently misman- 
aged and even injurious country boarding-schools. As a character- 
istic of Dr. Hawks's habitual consideration for the needy members 
of his profession, and of his own personal disinterestedness, it may be 
mentioned that it was his intention, when he had fairly established 
the institution, to leave it in the hands of appropriate trustees, with 
the simple provision that the sons of poor clergymen should receive 
from it, without charge, an education worthy the position due their 
parents. 

Previous to his departure for the Southwest, Dr. Hawks had, in 
1836, passed a summer season in England, procuring, in accordance 
with a provision of the General Convention, copies of important pa- 
pers relating to the early history of the Episcopal Church in Amer- 
ica. In this he had the assistance of the eminent dignitaries of the 
English Church, and secured a large and valuable collection of MSS., 
which have been since frequently consulted on important topics of 
the ecclesiastical and civil history of the country. While at Flush- 
ing, after his return, he printed considerable portions of them in the 



EDITORIAL LABORS. 3 S3 

Church Record, a weekly paper devoted to the cause of Christianity 
and education, which, commenced in November, 1840, was con- 
tinued till October, 1842.* The Record was conducted by Dr. 
Hawks, and besides its support of Protestant theology in the agita- 
tions of the day, induced by the publication of the " Oxford Tracts," 
in which Dr. Hawks maintained the old American clmrehmanship 
and respect for the rights of the laity, which he had learnt in the 
schools of White and Ravenscroft, the journal made also a liberal 
provision for the display of the sound old English literature, in a 
series of articles in which its wants were set forth from Sir Thomas 
More to De Foe. In 1837 Dr. Hawks established the New York 
Review, for a time continuing its active editor, and commencing its 
valuable series of articles on the leading statesmen of the country, 
with his papers on Jefferson and Burr.f 

While in the Southwest Dr. Hawks was elected Bishop of Missis- 
sippi, his confirmation in which office was met by opposition in the 
( '.neral Convention, where charges were proposed against him grow- 
ing out of the financial difficulties of the St. Thomas's Hall education 
scheme. His vindication of his course in this matter occupied sev- 
eral hours at the Convention at Philadelphia, and is described by 
those who listened to it as a masterly and eloquent oration : clear 
and ample in statement, powerful and convincing in the noble ap- 
peal of the motives which had led him to the disastrous enterprise. 
A vote of acquittal was passed, and the matter referred to the Diocese 
< >f Mississippi, which expressed its entire confidence. The bishopric 
was, however, not accepted. He has since been tendered the bish- 



* Three volumes of this work were published by C. R. Lindon, an ingenious 
practical printer, and since, the clever editor of the Flushing Gazette : two in 
quarto of the weekly, and a third in a monthly octavo. 

+ From the hands of Dr. Hawks the Review passed under the management 
of his associate in the enterprise, the Rev. Dr. C. S. Henry, the translator of 
Cousin, author of a History of Philosophy in Harpers' Family Library, and for 
many years Professor of Moral and Intellectual Philosophy in the New York 
University. When Dr. Henry retired from the Review, he was succeeded by 
that most accomplished man of letters, the organizer and first librarian of the 
Astor Library, Dr. J. G. Cogswell, by whom the work was conducted till its 
close in its tenth volume in 1841. 



884: FRANCIS L. HAWKS. 

oprie of Rhode Island. In 1842 Dr. Hawks edited a volume of the 
Hamilton papers from MSS., confided to him by the venerable wid- 
ow ; but the undertaking was laid aside with a single volume, the 
work having been afterwards entered upon by Hamilton's son, with 
the assistance of Congress.* In 1844 he accepted the rectorship of 
Christ's Church in Kew Orleans, a position which he held for five 
years ; during which time he also lent his assistance to the further- 
ance of the organization of the State University, of which he was 
made President, He returned to New York in 1849 at the request 
of his friends, with the understanding that provision was. to be made 
for his St. Thomas's Hall obligations ; the unabated admiration of 
his eloquence and personal qualities, readily secured a sufficient fund 
for this object, and he has since filled the pulpit at Calvary Church. 
The literary publications of Dr. Hawks are two volumes of " Con- 
tributions to the Ecclesiastical History of the United States," embra- 
cing the States of Virginia and Maryland ; a volume of " The Con- 
stitutions and Canons of the Episcopal Church," with notes ; a 
caustic essay on " Auricular Confession in the Protestant Episcopal 
Church," published in 1850; an octavo, "Egypt and its Monu- 
ments," in particular relation to biblical evidence ; a translation of 
Rivero and Tschudi's "Antiquities of Peru," in 1853 ; and several 
juvenile volumes of natural history and American annals, published 
in the " Boy's and Girl's Library" by the Harpers, with the title 
" Uncle Philip's Conversations." Dr. Hawks is also the author of a 
few poems, mostly descriptive of incidents in his parochial relations, 
which have been recently printed in the North Carolina collection of 
poetry, entitled " Wood Notes." It is understood that he has in 
preparation a work on the " Antiquities of America," a subject which 
has long employed his attention. In addition to these literary pur- 
suits, which have been but episodes in his active professional career, 
Dr. Hawks has delivered several lectures and addresses, of which we 
may mention particularly a biographical sketch of Sir Walter Ra- 



* The Official and other Papers of the late Major-General Alexander Hamil- 
ton, compiled chiefly from the originals in the possession of Mrs. Hamilton. 
8vo. New York : Wiley and Putnam, 1842. 



HIS WRITINGS. 



385 



leigh, and a vindication of the early position of North Carolina in the 
affairs of the Revolution. He has been also an active participant in 
the proceedings of the New York Ethnological, Historical, and 
Geographical Societies. Of the most important part of Dr. Hawks's 
intellectual labors, his addresses from the pulpit, it is enough to say 
that their merits in argument and rhetoric have deservedly main- 
tained his high position as an orator, through a period and to an 
extent rare in the history of popular eloquence. A manly and un- 
prejudiced conviction of Christian truth, a brilliant fancy, illumina- 
ting ample stores of reading, and a practical knowledge of the 
world ; seldom seen physical powers ; a deep-toned voice, expressive 
of sincere feeling and pathos, and easy and melodious in all its utter- 
ances ; a warm Southern sensibility, and courageous conduct in ac- 
tion, are among the qualities of the man, which justify the strong 
personal influence which he has long exercised at will among his 
contemporaries. 



criticism."* 

The pulpit is doubtless the field in which oratory exhibits its 
highest powers. It ever deals with a theme beside which all others 
sink into insignificance, and it illustrates the principles and the con- 
victions which it seeks to establish, by means infinitely small, when 
compared with the results to flow from its success. All the usual 
aids of person, voice, action, composition, and comparison, which at 
the bar, or in the forum, contribute so much to the power of the 
orator — elevating and adorning the subject — placing upon it a ficti- 
tious importance, which may, and to an extent will, disappear in the 
calmer light of reflection, must by the preacher be held in subjec- 
tion. The greatness of the business in which he is engaged must 
reign supreme, imbuing manner, tone, and language with humility. 
And this is equally a necessity, whether the feelings or the reason- 
ing powers are appealed to. The deductions of a cold and unsensi- 
tive logic must yet be reached by a path, and in a manner,, which 

* For this criticism we are indebted to a friend, 
, 25 



386 FKANCIS L. HAWKS. 

never for a moment places the speaker upon a level with the 
mere debater. Otherwise dignity is imperilled. 

The discourses of Dr. Hawks illustrate in a high degree this 
phase of pulpit oratory, while they are in themselves admirable as 
specimens of theological argumentation. To an active Christian 
humanity, which opens to him all the spiritual wants of his fellow- 
men, he unites the enthusiastic devotion of an historical and scientific 
scholar. His study is undoubtedly his favorite sphere. His pro- 
ductions are instinct with the spirit of a deep delver in the mines of 
knowledge. And to a man with colder impulses, and less imagina- 
tion, there might be danger of an absorption of every other in the 
intellectual element. But, although each succeeding discourse ac- 
cumulates evidences of new thought and reflection upon subjects we 
had deemed threadbare, we never hear one in which the broad un- 
derstrata of fellow-feeling is not apparent. Every man and woman 
who hears him, though there may be arguments which some fail 
fully to comprehend, becomes sensible of his relation as a kind 
Christian teacher — a warm-hearted sympathizer — a man with and 
of them. His discourses reach all classes, and speak intelligibly to 
all capacities of understanding. 

"We regard Dr. Hawks then, although essentially logical and argu- 
mentative in his general style, as a preacher to the many, and not 
alone to the few, whom his great talents and his high attainments 
have drawn around him. 

As to details, we distrust our ability to convey what we would 
wish to express. There are some champions in the cause of re- 
ligious progress, whose efforts fill the heart of the Christian with a 
newer hope, and a deeper devotion, while they awaken a just pride 
in the invincibility of the great truths of our common faith — men 
whose dominion over the head and the heart we at once recognize, 
but whose power we also acknowledge ourselves unable to analyze # 
It is not the voice — many another has vibrated quite as harmo- 
niously upon the sense. It is not the action, for we have sat almost 
unmoved before those great orators, whose very attitudes were full 
of speech and pathos. Neither is it the argument and the expres- 
sive beauty of the language in which it is draped ; and, finally, 






AS PREACHER. 387 

neither is it the illimitable field which these forces have united to 
illustrate. It seems rather to be that proportionate contribution of 
all these elements ; — none so predominating as to furnish a mark for 
applause, none so obscure as to remain unfelt,— which drives us to 
conviction, and rouses feeling. The theme is too elevated for action, 
pathos, beauty of language, or eloquence, merely as such. And 
argument, though it command the admiration, and perhaps the con- 
viction of the logical few, fails to reach the understanding of the 
feeling many. It is the harmonious working of this combination — 
the perfect proportion which each bears to the whole design — that 
constitutes what all will recognize as a great preacher. "We remem- 
ber to have long since raised Dr. Hawks to this place in our estima- 
tion, and we now find it difficult to say wherein he does not reach 
the standard. 

Purity and correctness of intonation are eminently his. He ut- 
ters the grand old Saxon in a manner which opens anew its capaci- 
ties as a vehicle of expression. We feel the simple beauty and 
truth of the Church Liturgy, as it comes from his lips during the 
service. Every word bears its full significance, and every sentence 
is majestic with the dignity of its high office. The text is read with 
clearness ; and with the modesty of a learned as well as Christian 
man, he commences his sermon. The preface may present a beau- 
tiful scene or a startling simile, like the initial chapter of a book, 
to fix the attention ; and if so, he works it out elaborately, and 
gives it a finish which a perfect command of language alone would 
enable him to do. But this is usually the limit which he allows his 
imagination to act in painting what may be termed ornament. 
With a full, rotund, and exquisitely modulated voice, enabling 
every listener to hear distinctly — a studied correctness in pronuncia- 
tion and emphasis which cannot fail to be understood — and an ac- 
tion which always aids and never obstructs his meaning, he strikes 
directly into the path of his argument. He rarely lingers in, and 
never leaves it, to offer to such of his hearers as are expecting the 
treat, those beautiful figures of speech which a vivid fancy is con- 
tinually suggesting. He seldom, if ever, allows secular matters, 
however notorious or important, to obtrude themselves into his or- 



388 FKANC1S L. HAWKS." 

dinary discourses ; though, upon occasion, he betrays an intimate 
sympathy with all the political and social changes through which 
our country is passing, and the citizen and the patriot rises to sen- 
timents almost "Websterian in their grandeur. His reasoning exhib- 
its traits of his education in another profession, but it is plainly clad, 
and he proceeds to deduce his conclusions with a logical closeness 
and an attention to detail which leave no outlet for escape to those 
who have admitted his premises and followed his argument. 

But the first and the last, the ever-present element which holds 
the attention of the listener, is earnestness. His heart is full of the 
work. It sends out a strong, deep river of feeling, whose force, ir- 
resistible and ceaseless, almost carries the foundations of unbelief 
itself with its tide. It touches his graceful, Burke-like diction with 
a pathos and an affection which wins him a direct way to the 
hearts of those who cannot comprehend, and do not need argu- 
ment. 

We have said nothing of his extempore style. It does not differ; 
or if it does, it gains in graceful elegance of expression, and in a 
freer play of the imagination, though it may lose in the other attri- 
butes which render his written productions models in theological 
literature. 

Much more should be said of one who for so many years has oc- 
cupied such a prominent place in the world of letters, as well as in 
the company of divines. Less we could not say. 



GEORGE ¥. BETHUNE 



Let your moderation be known unto all men." 



The father of Dr. Bethune, an eminent philanthropist and Chris- 
tian, was born at Dingwall, Rosshire, Scotland, in 1771. His an- 
cestors were Huguenots. In early life he resided at Tobago, where 
his only brother was a physician. At the command of his pious 
mother, he left the irreligious island, and removed to the United 
States in 1792, and settled in New York as a merchant. He was 
largely engaged in importing. He joined the church of Dr. Mason, 
and became one of its elders in 1802. He died September 18th, 
1824. He was a man wise in counsel, successful in business, an 
eminent Christian and philanthropist, and a prominent citizen. Be- 
fore a Tract Society was formed in this country, Mr. Bethune printed 
ten thousand tracts at his own expense, and distributed many of 
them himself; a circumstance which has led Dr. Bethune pleasantly 
to remark, that -he was the son of the first American Tract Society. 
He also imported Bibles for distribution. From 1803 to 1816, he 
was at the sole expense of one or more Sunday-schools. The tenth 
of his gains he devoted to the service of his heavenly Master. In his 
last sickness he said, " I wish my friends to help me through the 
valley by reading to me the word of God. 1 have not read much 
lately but the Bible — the Bible ! the Bible ! I want nothing but 
the Bible. Oh, the light that has shined into my soul through the 
Bible !" 

Dr. Bethune's maternal grandmother was the distinguished Chris- 
tian, Isabella Graham. This pious, charitable, and accomplished 
woman was born in Scotland, in 1742. In 1765 she was married 



390 GEORGE W. BETHUNE. 

to Dr. Graham, and accompanied him to Canada, where his regi- 
ment was stationed. He was afterwards ordered to Antigua, where 
he died, in 1*7 74. Mrs. Graham then returned to Scotland, and sup- 
ported her father and four children by teaching a school for young 
ladies. In 1789 she came to America, where she again conducted 
a seminary with as much success as beforehand connected herself 
with Dr. Mason's church. Though distinguished for personal en- 
dowments, she was peculiarly eminent as a public benefactor. In 
the year 1799, a society was formed for the relief of poor widows 
with small children, the original plan of which was formed at her 
house, and she was the principal manager. This society opened a 
school for the education of its orphans, which plan was developed 
into schools for poor children in various parts of the city, in the care 
of which some of Mrs. Graham's former pupils assisted, and also 
those of the widows who were qualified. She also established two 
Sunday-schools, one of which she conducted herself, and placed the 
other under the care of her daughter, Mrs. Bethune. Mrs. Graham 
was chiefly instrumental in organizing the first Orphan Asylum, and 
in 1811 she was chosen the first directress of a Magdalen Asylum, 
which office she held until her death. In the spring of 1814, she 
devoted her energies to establishing a society for the promotion 
of industry among the poor. She died in the triumphs of faith, on 
the 24th of July, 1814. 

The mother of Dr. Bethune, who is still living, at the age of 
eighty-seven, was an efficient co-operator with her mother in all 
benevolent enterprises. In 1812, the trustees of the Lancasterian 
School solicited the attendance of pious ladies to give catechetical 
instruction one afternoon of each week. Mrs. Bethune attended 
regularly to that work. In another part of the volume we have al- 
luded to her co-operation in sustaining schools at the Five Points. 
She was also equally efficient with her mother in organizing the 
first Orphan Asylum; and in the establishment of Sabbath-schools, 
and of organizations for the relief of the poor, she and her husband 
were devoted laborers. Their lives of noble benevolence are yet 
to be written for the guidance and encouragement of others. 

George W, Bethune was born in New York, March 18th, 1805, He 



PULPIT MANNER. 391 

received a liberal education, spending three years at Columbia Col- 
lege, and was graduated at Dickinson College, Carlisle, Pennsylvania. 
He was ordained a Presbyterian minister in 1826, but in the follow- 
ing year joined the Reformed Dutch Church. His professional life 
was commencefl at Rhinebeck, on the Hudson, from whence he re- 
moved to Utica, where he founded a new church. In 1834 he 
went to Philadelphia, where he was connected with two churches, 
the second of which, like the one in Utica, was the successful result 
of a new enterprise. In 1849, he came to Brooklyn, at the call of 
a society which was newly organized with special reference to his 
connection with it. His people are very strongly attached to him. 

In delivery, Dr. Bethune impresses one with the strength of his 
convictions, the honesty of their expression, and the energy and 
activity of his mental workings. In the reading of the Scriptures, 
he has a fulness of enunciation and a fervor of emphasis, united 
to a culture of expression, which is unusual. In the reading of 
hvmns, he evidences the poet, and though to most his elocution is 
unexceptionable, yet to a severe taste it is carried one point beyond 
perfect simplicity. His manner would indicate the care and self- 
possession of a long experience in successful oratory. He has free- 
dom and great vigor of gesture and action of body, and sometimes 
strikes his right hand firmly on the desk, or on the left palm, ex- 
tended to receive it. He is peculiar for occasionally planting one 
or both of his hands on his side ; for using an eyeglass, besides 
spectacles ; and for putting back a long gray lock which falls over 
his face. In person, he is too large ; and yet we cannot but use the 
expressive Arabic phrase, "May his shadow never be less!" His 
voice has force and clearness, and the management of it is notice- 
able, in that it is sometimes pitched on a high, strained key, through 
continuous sentences, and at the impressive words drops down an 
octave with effect. He does not speak frequently on the platform, 
and not so often as formerly. He is a favorite extempore speaker, 
not less by the manifestation of conviction and interest in what 
he is saying, and by energetic oratory, than by a felicitous wording, 
which unites a frank, happy humor with an accomplished style. 

His church edifice is noticeable for receiving light from above, 



392 GEORGE W. BETHUNE. 

which produces a very pleasant effect, and is also suggestive. The 
music of the church is unusually good. The choir numbers eight 
persons, who possess culture, taste, and power, without extravagance 
or protrusion of art. 

Dr. Bethune is a fine representative of The Co^ervative. He 
is naturally repelled by " fanaticisms," or " ultraisms," or extra " re- 
forms." He thinks that these progressive excitements work out 
more evil than good, through sad reactions. He is not what is 
technically styled an " anti-slavery" man, although he regards sla- 
very as a moral, political, and social evil. But he looks upon the 
present anti-slavery excitement as produced by designing politicians, 
to subserve selfish ends, out of popular material which patriots 
should discourage rather than develop. He would severely con- 
demn the advocacy by clergymen of sending " Sharpe's Rifles" to 
the people of Kansas. 

So in the matter of Temperance he esteems the insisting on total 
abstinence, and on the support of a prohibitory law, as tests of true 
Temperance principles, to be " ultra," and the denunciation of those, 
who occasionally drink wine and doubt the policy of allying the 
Temperance movement with politics, as wrong. And though he 
never takes ardent spirits himself, and a glass of wine only occasion- 
ally, yet he would not drive stimulants from the earth. He regards 
the vine as a blessing, and thinks the Bible so teaches. And he 
would place his Temperance principles on the broad basis of his 
other principles ; that virtue consists in self-control rather than in 
abstinence, and that sin consists not in the proper use, but in the 
improper abuse. So with enjoyment derived from art, music, flowers, 
and literature, he answers the " cui bono " criticiser by saying, they 
give happiness, and that is a sufficient good. Did God paint the 
flower, intending that we should put on green spectacles ? Did He 
create the infinities of music, and then command us to put cotton in 
our ears ? Did He profusely scatter the " good things for food " for 
mere tantalization ? No ; all these are good and to be enjoyed. 
It is only their abuse which is wrong. The two extremes in life 
are worldliness and asceticism. Worldliness results from indiffer- 
ence to religion ; asceticism from self-righteousness. The latter is 



CHARACTERISTICS. 393 

as offensive to God as the former, and more difficult to eradicate 
from the human heart. And while he insists, of course, on the firm 
••ontrol of appetite, he regards self-denial as having a far deeper sig- 
nification, in the substitution of Christ's will for one's own will. 
Such, we think, is a correct outlining of his position. 

Uniting with these principles — which are held with fidelity and 
expressed with frankness — a high standard of honor, a fine humor, 
good sense, and unusual culture, it follows that his social excellencies 
are distinguished, and fortunate do those esteem themselves who 
can share his society, either on public occasions or in the private 
circle. His conversation is genial, suggestive, adorned with humor- 
ous and pathetic anecdote, and enriched from a memory well stored 
from many sources. He resembles John Sterling in that " his rev- 
erence was ardent and just, ever ready for the thing or man that 
deserved revering, or seemed to deserve it ; but he was of too joyful, 
light, and hoping a nature to go to the depths of that feeling, much 
more to dwell perennially in it. His piety was prompt and pure, 
rather than great or intense ; on the whole, religious devotion was 
not the deepest element of him. He had no fear in his composition ; 
terror and awe did not blend with his respect of any thing. In no 
sense or epoch could he have been a church-saint, a fanatic enthu- 
siast, or have worn out his life in passive martyrdom, sitting patient 
in his grim coal-mine, looking at the ' three ells' of heaven high 
overhead. In sorrow he would not dwell ; all sorrow he swiftly sub- 
dued and shook away from him. I should say, not religious rev- 
erence, rather artistic admiration, was the essential character of 
him." 

Dr. Bethune is fond of country life, and especially devoted to " the 
contemplative man's recreation," being somewhat noted for excellently 
editing the first American, edition of Isaac Walton's Angler, and for 
having gathered a remarkable collection of works on Fishing. His 
library is unusually large, and the appearance of his study reminds 
of Dickens's description of fog in London — books on the walls, 
books to the ceiling, books in the closets, books in the recess, books 
on the tables, books on the floor, books on books, books everywhere. 
In literature he is most fond of the classics and of the ancient piii- 



394 GEORGE W. BETHUNE. 

losophers, deeming it fair to " spoil the Heathen " for the beautifying 
of the temple. His collection of Latin and Greek volumes is remark- 
able, both for size and value. 

' Dr. Bethune is the author of several works, written not so much 
for the public as for his own people, but which have attained much 
circulation : " The Fruit of the Spirit ;" " Early Lost, early Saved ;" 
" The History of a Penitent ;" " Lays of Love and Faith, and other 
Poems ;" a volume of " Orations and Occasional Discourses," and a 
limited edition of a volume of Sermons. The volume of Orations 
comprises funeral discourses on the death of Stephen Van Rensselaer, 
President Harrison, and General Jackson; Lectures and College 
Addresses upon Genius ; Leisure, its Uses and Abuses ; Age of Peri- 
cles; Prospects of Art in the United States; Eloquence of the 
Pulpit ; Duties of Educated Men ; Plea for Study ; and the Claims 
of our Country upon its Literary Men. 

Dr. Bethune's usual preaching is much of it exegetical or textual. 
He develops the idea of the chosen text, and does not use it as a 
motto simply. He explains and dissects the passage. His sermons 
on occasions are thoroughly elaborated and perfectly finished. His 
greatest efforts have been given before benevolent societies. One of 
the best was a sermon in behalf of the Foreign Evangelical Society. 

The style of his sermons in some respects resembles Orville Dewey's. 
There is the same freedom from marring peculiarities, the same grace 
of movement and elegance of carriage, and the same simple ease, 
adorned with rich but not dazzling ornaments. The appellations are 
chaste, the illustrations are natural, and the expression possesses firm 
fibre and high polish. The enlightened are attracted by compre- 
hensiveness of thought, and the refined by the care in elaboration, 
while the rude enjoy the simplicity, and are impressed by the earn- 
estness. 

In Dr. Bethune we see nothing of the business preacher, who goes 
to the altar as a mechanic to his bench, or a merchant to his desk ; 
neither do we see the hireling preacher, driven, by a base lust, 
to and through a prayer and sermon ; praying because he must pray, 
and preaching because he must preach — the laborer working by the 
hour. Neither is he the careless preacher, dashing recklessly and 



" ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT." 395 

impiously upon Lis duties, unprepared either by meditation or study. 
Neither is he the formal preacher, using set phrases which somebody 
formed before him. Nor is he the sectarian preacher — one more in 
love with his party than with the good and true — seeking to mul- 
tiply the points of difference rather than of agreement between his 
own and other sects — preaching Self, and him exalted in the place 
of Christ and Him crucified. But Dr. Bethune is a preacher who 
is true to his calling in anticipating its public duties by diligent pre- 
paration, and in entering upon them with the freshness of their first 
and the seriousness of their last assumption. He is also true to his 
people, coming before them neither in the mask of a lengthened vis- 
age, nor tithing anise and cummin, nor resorting to feigned tones, nor 
in any way acting a part ; but, in the simplicity of truth, ministering 
unto them, neither deceiving nor being deceived. He always aims, 
almost with exclusive care, to give the first prominence in his preach- 
ing to the doctrine of Christ and His cross. The last words of his 
father have doubtless had a marked influence over his whole life. 
When the noble Christian man was at the point of death, he turned 
his expressive eyes upon his son and his sons-in-law (who were 
preachers), and said, " My sons; preach the Gospel ! Tell dying 
sinners of a Saviour. All the rest is — but folly !" 

The following extract from a discourse before the Porter Rhetor- 
ical Society of Andover, on the " Eloquence of the Pulpit," gives a 
good illustration of the spirituality and forcible style of his sermons : 

" Brethren, our only sure guide is the High Priest of our profession. 
Our only safety is in a continual ' looking unto Jesus.' Let us look 
to Him in the manger, in his baptism, his temptation, his agony, 
and his cross. Study his lowly demeanor, his constant activity, 
his gentle meekness, his unshaken confidence, his divine courage. 
Behold Him upon his throne, his mightiness to save, the glory of 
his reward, his beckoning hand holding forth the palm and the 
crown of the faithful unto death ! "We have a true teacher, an om- 
nipotent support, a present divinity in that Holy Spirit, who baptized 
the humanity of Jesus, and strengthened his flesh and blood and hu- 
man soul, for the susception and endurance of its mighty burden. 
That Holy Ghost is promised unto all that seek his grace, and may 



396 GEORGE W. BETHUNE. 

be ours. He, and He alone, can so surround us in the study, the 
pulpit, and our daily walk, as to ward far from us ' each thing of sin 
and guilt.' Only live and move in Him, and by faithful invocation 
obtain his Presence to live and move within you, and your fidelity, 
your usefulness and reward are sure. • Commit your way unto God. 
He will bring it to pass.' 

" Rely not upon the world. It flatters for its own ends. The 
popularity it can give is evanescent, and those whom it applauds to- 
day, it will, when tired of its plaything, ridicule, scourge, and lie 
against to-morrow. If God makes you popular, receive the dispen- 
sation humbly as giving opportunities of usefulness ; but remember 
it is a fearful gift, a most perilous elevation, exciting envy, present- 
ing you a prey for base and carping spirits to hawk at, liable at any 
moment to a painful reverse ; and worst of all, except you be most 
wakefully on your guard, sapping your spiritual life, and infusing 
through all your best thoughts and duties a detestable self-idolatry. 
If your lot be more humble, it will be more quiet, and need not be 
unuseful. Murmur not against it ; but living for the best improve- 
ment of the influence you have, await your elevation as a faithful 
servant on that day, when the inequalities of time shall be more 
than compensated by the retributions of eternity. 

" Rely not upon the Church. It is composed of converted sin- 
ners imperfectly sanctified ; and you will find in it all the passions 
that agitate the world, though modified and restrained a degree. 
Expect not gratitude, no, not even justice. When most disinterest- 
edly you contend against prevailing errors in doctrine and practice, 
or warn against encroaching dangers, you must not be surprised to 
find your enemies, your slanderers, your persecutors, even among the 
household of God; yes, and when the delusion is past, and time 
has justified your fears and your warnings, the stains of that unjust 
dishonor will remain upon your ministerial character, while your 
devotion to the cause of truth is forgotten. 

" Rely not even upon those whom you have been the happy instru- 
ment of converting from death unto life, and of building up on the 
most holy faith. Well must you love them, and sweet must be the 
delight taken in their dear company ; yet never be unwatchful even 



"eloquence of the pulpit." 397 

against them ; never allow your hearts so to lean upon them that 
your trust cannot be recalled, and you stand without their support. 
Not a few of these venerable men who surround us will assent, when 
I say, that the shafts which have drunk our heart's peace with the 
most venomed bitterness, have been aimed and urged by those whose 
spiritual infancy wc have nursed and watched over with the most 
yearning affection. 

" Trust none but God. Live supremely for Christ. Rely only upon 
the Holy Ghost, and look for your reward above earth and beyond 
time. If God bless you on the way, thank Him and enjoy the 
grace ; but let not even blessing delay your onward speed to heaven, 
or seduce your contemplation from the joy which is eternal. 

"Beloved Master, when we behold Thee leaving the throne of 
heaven for the manger of thy human infancy, the sorrows of thy 
life, the bitterness of thy passion ; when we think of thy patience 
with the contradiction of sinners against Thyself, and thy long suffer- 
ing of the lukewarmness of thy people ; when we read of the stu- 
pendous economy and riches of thy grace ; we wonder at the vast- 
ness of the sacrifice, and the infiniteness of the condescension ; but, 
when we behold Thee on thy throne, thy victories all complete, thy 
people all brought home, thy Church perfect in thine image, and 
hear the swelling chorus of praise that resounds through the eternal 
years of God, we know that the purchase was worthy of its price, 
the reward, of the sorrow that earned it, and the joy, of the death 
from which it was born immortal. 

" Brethren, companions in tribulation and in the kingdom and pa- 
tience of Jesus Christ, baptized with our Master's baptism, partakers 
of his cup, and followers of his ministry, what are all the labors we 
can endure, the trials we must encounter, the sacrifices we are called 
to make, compared with a fellowship in that glory, and joy, and re- 
ward ! I cannot speak of the glory of the ascended Church when it 
'shall shine as the brightness of the firmament,' or of the ascended 
ministers of Jesus, when they shall shine ' like stars' in that firma- 
ment ' forever and ever.' It is not given to man to know, nor to the 
tongue of man to describe the riches God has prepared for them that 
love Him. But God grant that this we know not now, we all may 



6i)tt GEOKGE W. BETHUNE. 

know by sweet experience hereafter ; and that all this Christian 
company, meeting around the throne of the Lord God Almighty 
and the Lamb, may behold his face in righteousness. Then shall 
we be ' satisfied with his likeness,' 'for we shall see Him as He is.'" 
We append a few specimens of his poetry : 



john rv. 34. 

Upon the well by Sy char's gate, 
At burning noon, the Saviour sate, 
Athirst and hungry, from the way 
His feet had trod since early day ; 
The Twelve had gone to seek for food, 
And left him in his solitude. 

They come and spread before him there, 
With faithful haste, the pilgrim fare, 
And gently bid him : " Master, eat 1" 
But God had sent him better meat, 
And there is on his gentle brow, 
Nor weariness nor faintness now. 

For while they sought the market-place, 
His words had won a soul to grace ; 
And when He set that sinner free 
From bonds of guilt and infamy, 
His heart grew strong with joy divine, 
More than the strength of bread and wine. 

So, Christian, when thy faith is faint, 
Amidst the toils that throng the saint, 
Ask God that thou mayst peace impart 
Unto some other human heart ; 
And thou thy Master's joy shalt share, 
E'en while his cross thy shoulders bear. 



399 



THE AULD SCOTCH SANGS. 
(AJTER HEARING MR. DE1IPSTER SING.) 

! sing to me the auld Scotch sangs, 

I' the braid Scottish tongue, 
The sangs my father loved to hear, 

The sangs my mither sung ; 
When she sat beside my cradle, 

Or croon'd me on her knee, 
An' I wad na sleep, she sang sae sweet, 

The auld Scotch sano-s to me. 



»' 



Yes ! sing the auld, the gude auld sangs, 

Auld Scotia's gentle pride, 
0' the wimpling burn and the sunny brae, 

An' the cosie ingle-side ; 
Sangs o' the broom an' heather, 

Sangs o' the trysting tree, 
The laverock's lilt and the gowan's blink ; 

The auld Scotch sangs for me ! 

Sing ony o' the auld Scotch sangs, 

The blythesome or the sad ; 
They mak' me smile when I am wae, 

An' greet when I am glad. 
My heart gaes back to auld Scotland, 

The saut tears dim mine e'e, 
An' the Scotch bluid leaps in a' my veins, 

As ye sing thae sangs to me. 

Sing on, sing mair o' thae auld sangs ; 

For ilka ane can tell 
0' joy or sorrow i' the past, 

"Where memory loves to dwell ; 



400 GEORGE W. BETHUNE. 

Though hair win gray, and limbs win auld, 

Until the day I dee, 
I'll bless the Scottish tongue that sings 

The auld Scotch sangs to me. 



SONG. 

She's fresh as breath of summer morn, 

She's fair as flowers in spring, 
And her voice it has the warbling gush 

Of a bird upon the wing ; 
For joy like dew shines in her eye, 

Her heart is kind and free ; 
'Tis gladness but to look upon 

The face of Alice Lee. 

She knows not of her loveliness, 

And little thinks the while, 
How the very air grows beautiful 

In the beauty of her smile ; 
As sings within the fragrant rose • 

The honey-gath'ring bee, 
So murmureth laughter on the lips 

Of gentle Alice Lee. 

How welcome is the rustling breeze 

When sultry day is o'er ! 
More welcome far the graceful step, 

That brings her to the door ; 
'Tis sweet to gather violets : 

But oh ! how blest is he, 
Who wins a glance of modest love, 

From iovely Alice Lee ! 



RICHARD S. STORRS, JR. 



Now therefore, God, strengthen my hands. 



*Richard S. Storrs, Jr., is pastor of the Church of the Pilgrims 
in Brooklyn. He is now in his thirty-sixth year : — is the faithful, 
efficient, beloved pastor to one of the leading congregations in the 
City of Churches. As connected with a leading religious paper, as 
the writer of some very able reviews, as one popular among lecturers, 
and eloquent upon the platform ; chiefest and best of all as a devoted 
preacher of great power and promise, he is well and widely known. 
Few clergymen of his years and vicinity, surpass him in general cul- 
ture and ripe scholarship. Honest without affectation, and fearless 
without bravado, he is a fine type of the Congregational clergymen 
out of New England. 

Dr. Storrs seems to have been ancestrally preordained to the Con- 
gregational ministry. The choice New England stock from which 
he springs, was clerical in its root and branches, sap and leaves. 
His father is Rev. Richard S. Storrs, D. D., of Braintree, Mass. It is 
a name esteemed and venerable, of one who, for nearly half a cen- 
tury, has been pastor of the Braintree Congregational Church, and 
identified with all the most important religious movements that have 
taken place in New England during that time. Dr. Storrs's grand- 
father was Rev. Richard S. Storrs, who ended his days at Long 
Meadow, after having been for nearly forty years pastor of the Con- 
gregational Church in that place. His great grandfather was Rev. 



* For this sketch of Dr. Storrs we are indebted to Stephen E. Burrall r Esq., 
of New York. 

2$ 



402 RICHARD S. STORES, JR. 

John Storrs, who for some time was pastor of the Congregational 
Church at East Hampton, L. I., and who afterwards returned to Mans- 
field, Conn., his native place, and there died. "We once heard Dr. 
Bethune remark, at a dinner of the Congregational Union, " that 
New England people were forever talking about Bunker Hill and 
Plymouth Rock, yet were constantly leaving home, and you never 
could get them back there oftener than once a year, and Thanksgiving 
Day at that." So we take great pleasure in citing the case of Rev. 
John Storrs as one instance to the contrary. 

Dr. Storrs was born in Braintree ; and it is not a bad place to be 
born in, for it seems to make up for lack of mountains in its breed of 
men : we never should have known of John Hancock, the Adamses, 
or Quincys, if it hadn't been for Braintree. 

We know but little of his boyhood, yet suppose any New 
England boy can guess it pretty nearly. For ourselves, we shall 
venture to guess only so much as this — that the very Shekinah of 
it were the words and prayers of a New England Mother. We will 
write that last word very slowly ; and if our pen had a head, and 
wore a hat, it should write the rest of this article uncovered. Part 
of Mr. Storrs's preparation for college was done at the academy in 
Monson, Mass. He graduated from Amherst College in 1839, being 
eighteen years of age, and the youngest member of his class. After 
graduation, he read law for some months in connection with the 
office of Hon. Rufus Choate, and subsequently entered the Theologi- 
cal Seminary at Andover. Ill health obliging him to discontinue 
his studies for a time, he was engaged as one of the teachers of Wil- 
liston Seminary, at East Hampton, Mass. Returning afterwards to 
Andover, he there completed his theological course, and entered the 
ministry six years after his college graduation. Receiving soon after 
a call to be pastor of a Congregational church in Brookline, Mass., 
he accepted it, and continued at that place about a year. In 1845 
he was married to Miss Mary E. Jenks, of Andover, Mass. In the 
month of November, 1846, he was installed as pastor of the Church 
of the Pilgrims. 

He was at this time in his twenty-sixth year, had had but one 
year's experience in the ministry, and was in delicate health. The 



403 

post to which lie was called, would have been most trying- for any 
man, whatever his age, ability, or character. Had it been an old 
and firmly established church, the position would have been most 
arduous. But it was a new edifice and a new enterprise. It was 
all important a right beginning should be made. The congregation 
was large and wealthy, the church edifice costly and unique in its 
architectural design, the whole position of things calculated to force 
both pastor and people into a prominent position before the commu- 
nity, and we can well remember now, the remark made us by a 
shrewd friend, soon after the subject of our sketch was installed, " that 
the place would either spoil or kill him." Ten years have well-nigh 
sufficed to prove the falseness of the prophecy. 

Just at this point, it is but proper we should glance at the origin 
and history of the Church of the Pilgrims in Brooklyn, there being 
many things in its rise and progress, which deserve not only to be 
mentioned but remembered. 

It is probably well known, that the Congregational system of 
Church government, although more prevalent in New England than 
any other, had, until a comparatively recent period, made but small 
advances beyond. Several years before the Church of the Pilgrims 
was organized, the attempt had been made to establish a Congrega- 
tional Church in Brooklyn, which had been peopled to a surprising 
degree by natives of New England. But the attempt had failed ; 
and many even seemed to suppose that Congregationalism could 
not thrive upon any but a New England soil. As, year after year, 
therefore, the population of the city was increased by emigrants 
from the New England States, these united themselves to the vari- 
ous religious denominations already existing, the Congregationalist 
from Boston, or New Haven, or Portland, becoming, for the most 
part, the Presbyterian in Brooklyn. And yet there was all the 
while in many New England hearts an abiding love for the old 
Church of their fathers. With no disposition towards proselytism, no 
wish to quarrel with other forms of worship, or those who preferred 
them, they felt in their inmost selves "that the Congregational 
system was the best system — the best in itself, the best for the com- 
munity and times." They loved its old simplicity, they hugged to 



404 EICHAKD S. S702B5. -JS, 

their hearts its fundamental idea. K tfcs 
sociated together, and statedly meeting for the worship of God aad 
the administration of Christian ordinances, constitu: -: -tian 

Church, was to be regarded as such, and n - k I of all the 

powers and privileges incident thereto." Z~i-~ : - 5 honored 

names of John Eo":;:_i^:_ and Bradford, and Miles g : ' ._. and 
the gentle Lady Arabella. 8 who took SI r~ England on her way 
heaTen." They loved its mossy memories : Z ..md and Delft 
Haven, and the May Flower 5 saint, l%ej could remember no 
Gothic pile, nor groined arch, nor trained :_::rs,nor pealing an- 
thems ; but dear memories they had of a temple built in the wil- 
derness, and arched by a fiweign sty. Its corner-stone was a rock 
at Plymouth : the snows of December carpeted ite floor ; and the 
bleak winds of winter fe ffifag through the | rimevai and leafless 
woods that were Us ^omnme, blended with the J : trim's song of 
praise to form the sublime ritual of tha: - rrch. 

Such a Church was thought worthy to be remembered aad per- 
petuated, therefore, wherever the descendants of the Pilgrims « 
And at length the feeling fc&Snae s: general, it needed only that 
some one should take the initiative, and the work was done. I 
the year 1844 "The Church of the Pilgrims" commenced its exist- 
ence as an organized body. The first meeting preparatory to an 
organization was held upon a cold inclement January evening, with 
only a few present, and when the bwy a& : See where they met had 
by some oversight " been left unnghted and unwarmed. 55 

It was a small and feeble beginning, but a beginmngi>ev®th£'-i^ ; 
and men who are at all thoughtful, and observing, do not despise 
day of feeble beginnings. The handful that came together organized 
regularly, a co mmi ttee was appointed to draft a plan for subs:::; 
tions, the time for another meeting was fixed, and all present deter- 
mined to enlist others in the enterprise, Il very -hort time, and 
before ground had been broken, subscriptions were raised to an amount 
which it was supposed w : ol 1 : : ~er the entire sOBl : : the lot, build- 
ing, organ, and the entire furniture of the house ; for those engaged 
in the enterprise thought that churches could no better afford to be 
in debt than individuals, if as well : and that it was "by no means ad- 



4:05 

visable, that while the Israelites were quietly engaged in the temple 
service, outside Arnalekites and Hittites should be perfecting liens 
upon the temple itself. 

The corner-stone was laid on the 2d of July, 1844, amid much 
real thankfulness, and much genuine humility ; but here and there 
some ill-advised and ill-concealed exultations, whose key-note, in 
five sharps, was very speedily flatted. Contrary to all expectation, 
the church edifice was hindered in its completion by one unforeseen 
cause after another, and was not finally dedicated until the 12th of 
May, 1846. The estimated cost had been 825,000 ; but greatly ad- 
ditional means were required in the progress of the work, so that 
upon its completion the expense actually incurred was $40,000 in 
excess of this first estimate, and the church commenced with a 
debt of $18,000. 

Moreover, in obtaining a pastor, many obstacles occurred, unex- 
pected and almost unaccountable. Invitations to the pastorate were 
given, one after another, to those who seemed just the men for the 
place, but who, for various reasons, declined accepting. The post 
was important, the people longed for a leader, but none came. At 
this juncture Mr. Storrs received, and conditionally accepted, an 
invitation to become the pastor. Previously, and while making a 
brief visit to Brooklyn, he had been requested to preach for the 
congregation then worshipping in the lecture-room. He declined 
doing so, but consented to conduct the Sabbath evening meeting, at 
which he chose a text, and, without notes, gave what might be 
termed a lecture ; and it is somewhat singular that this was the only 
time of his officiating before the congregation, prior to receiving 
the invitation spoken of. Yet, even when the call, as we have stated, 
had been conditionally accepted, it was afterwards feared it must be 
refused, and the hopes of the church, as often before, be again disap- 
pointed. Every hindrance, however, was at length removed, and he 
was installed, as already said, in the month of November, 1846. 
The responsibilities he assumed, the fears and hopes for him, are 
only known to those who rocked the infant cradle of that church ; 
and in its days of present prosperity, when it cannot only stand 
alone, but leaps and sings in the pride of its strength, it can do no 



406 EICHAED S. STORES, JE. 

harm to recur to those days when it crept feebly into being. From 
the time of his first entrance upon his pastoral duties, there has been 
a steady increase in the congregation, now among the very largest 
in the city. That he has been a constant and faithful worker, every- 
body knows, who knows any thing about him. The Sabbath-school 
connected with the church is large and flourishing, while the aggre- 
gate of subscriptions to benevolent objects, during the ten years of 
his ministry, is about $70,000. In January, 1848, measures were 
adopted by the church to free themselves from the debt we have 
already mentioned, and these measures resulted in the subscription, 
within the society, of the whole amount, before the first of April fol- 
lowing. In the month of June, 184*7, nine members of the church 
were dismissed, to unite with others in establishing the church of 
which Mr. Beecher is at present the pastor. It has likewise aided to 
form and build up other churches in Brooklyn and its vicinity, and 
has seen the denominational interest, so insignificant at the commence- 
ment of their enterprise, assuming rapidly a strength and character 
not to have been anticipated ; and at which the church itself has 
often been surprised. We have alluded to the state of Br. Storrs's 
health when he came to Brooklyn. In this there has been a steady 
improvement, and it is firmly established at the present time. 

There are those who always wish to know how men look and 
seem. Mr. Storrs is tall, and of a frame naturally athletic. His 
countenance is intellectual, and what some call spiritual in its cast 
In the pulpit he wears a gown, which we like. His manner has 
always been free from the affectation and display which are endured 
in elderly clergymen, ridiculed in younger ones, and liked in none. 
His enunciation is distinct, though very rapid, and occasionally 
marked by a slight mannerism. His delivery is very nervous, forci- 
ble, and impressive. A person once spoke to us of his delivery, " as 
being the worst for a very good he had ever known." It does for 
him, but would never bear to be imitated. Yet it is always effective : 
very often eloquent. His voice is remarkable for its depth and 
power, and when excitement calls it forth, it fairly rings upon the 
oaken ceiling of his church. 

Mr. Storrs's discourses always show great care of composition. 



STYLE. 407 

The fault, if any, is of excessive elaboration. Many of us need 
handling without gloves ; and the evils of this age call for home- 
thrusts. He has the faculty of saying what he wishes to, and saying 
it well. His illustrations are always wisely selected, and, together 
with his imagery — for which he has more than a slight fondness — 
are chaste, forcible, and often exceedingly beautiful. From the very 
beginning, his discourses have shown remarkable maturity of thought, 
and an admirable arrangement. He presents a subject very fully, 
and each portion would be missed from the completed discourse. 
It has seemed to us that he had a great partiality for developing 
subjects ; for presenting them in different lights ; for elaborating an 
idea once presented, instead of enunciating it boldly at once, and 
leaving the rest for his hearers ; and that hence his sermons were 
not so suggestive as they would otherwise be. Sometimes, both in 
reading and hearing him, we have noticed a fondness for what 
seemed to be certain pet words, and occasionally for such as were 
unusual, and out of the way, when simpler ones would have an- 
swered just as well, if not better. A mind constituted like his, is in 
danger of regarding too much the drapery of ideas : of sitting too 
long upon the refming-chair, when it were better to jump straight 
down into the ore-bed, and do strong execution with pickaxe and 
shovel. And yet, if any person should conceive from the foregoing 
remarks that Dr. Storrs was a man all tropes and figures, we hasten 
to correct any such impression. "We have listened to and read 
single discourses of his, that had in them body enough to keep the 
Rev. Charles Honeyman busy for two years in draping. Dr. Storrs 
is a strong man, though he has lived but thirty-six years. Men 
are not always weak because they are imaginative. Dryness is not 
always solidity, and mayhap he is as great a sculptor, who hews you 
the head of Jove, crowned with Olympian locks and with majesty 
on its awful forehead, as he who whittles out a bare, brainless, eye- 
less skull. "We must say, however, we have sometimes thought Dr. 
Storrs's thoughts suffered from too little conciseness of expression, 
and that occasionally, when he was about to admit us into the 
contemplation of some grand and over-arching subject, he kept us 
standing too long in the doorway, namely, the text. They may 



408 EICHAED S. STORES, JE. 

recommend this at Andover, rhetorical rules may insist upon it, but 
in the world's broad school there is sometimes a weight and pressure 
in a subject which should drive Dr. Blair into an exceedingly small 
corner, with his face to the wall. We do not care to be held too 
long at arm's end, to hear too many abstract propositions respecting 
subjects which touch us, our friends, homes, hearts — chiefest of all 
our duty ; or if we do, it is an indulgence that should not be shown 
us : and what is lost in rhetorical completeness is gained oftentimes 
in the whole effect, we think, by laying bare the great, red, throbbing 
heart of a subject at two strokes of the knife. 

But it is not in Dr. Storrs's written efforts alone, that his excel- 
lence as a preacher consists. Some of the most acceptable sermons 
to which his congregation has ever listened have been preached 
wholly without notes. He excels also as a platform speaker. 

From some sermons and discourses before us we make the follow- 
ing extracts, not professing a very careful selection, but hoping they 
may give the reader some correct idea of Dr. Storrs's written style. 

The first extract is from a sermon entitled " Congregationalism, its 
Principles and Influences," first preached before the General Asso- 
ciation at Madison, and published in 1848. In speaking of one 
principle of the Congregational system, to wit, " That each local 
society of believers, having once by its own act, been constituted as 
a church, is thereafter self-complete, and self-controlling, rightfully 
independent of the jurisdiction of others," the writer says : 

" A minor, and yet not altogether an unimportant felicity con- 
nected with it" (the principle above stated), " is this : it will facilitate 
the diffusion of Church Institutions. 

" Wherever there is a company of Christians agreeing in their 
reception of the essential truth, and desiring to be associated for 
the worship of the Highest, there may a church at once be con- 
stituted. No magic episcopal grace is needfid to the work. No 
aid, even, of presbyters is essential to its completion. There is no 
precise law and pattern of organization which must be adhered to, 
and deviation from which invalidates the proceeding. The whole 
is a matter of free consent and mutual adjustment. Upon the plat- 
form of their common faith, the associated disciples, by their agree- 



CONGREGATIONALISM. 409 

ment with each other, erect their own church organization : an 
organization complete within itself, and rightfully independent of 
every other. Wheresoever, therefore, the Gospel goes, thither the 
Church of Christ may follow it at once. That Gospel may be 
eanied, conceivably, to the remotest lands, by shipwrecked mari- 
ners, by the sailor-boy in his Bible. Borne upon the almost view- 
less tracts, those fleet and aerial messengers that are now sent forth 
on every wind, almost as the germs and blossoms of tropical fruits 
are said sometimes to be carried over seas and continents upon 
the pinions of the storm, the truths which constitute the essence 
of the Gospel — its tidings of redemption, its revelation of Christ — 
may reach the remotest regions of the earth ; may be implanted, 
and may spring up in beauty, and may bring forth their fruit amid 
the islands of Central Africa, or in the wilds and fastnesses of that 
ancient empire whose walls, when Paul was writing, were hoary 
with the moss of centuries, or on some lonely and almost unin- 
habited island of the southern Pacific : in lands where no voice of 
the living preacher was ever heard, and to which no other ambassa- 
dor of the cross has ever pierced ; and distant as is that land, and 
unapproached and inaccessible, there may be constituted at once 
the Church of Christ in all its privilege and prerogative ; with no 
more need of aid from without, in order to the perfectness of its 
development, than the germ would have, when once deposited upon 
the distant mountain, of the presence and aid of other germs to 
quicken it in activity, and mature it into a tree." 

The next extract is from a sermon entitled, "Christianity: its 
Destined Supremacy on the Earth," which was preached April 6 
and 13, 1851, before the Foreign Missionary Society of New York 
and Brooklyn. 

After an inquiry into the nature of Christianity, and an argu- 
ment for its supremacy in the earth, based first upon " The very 
fact that God has established and introduced it to human knowl- 
edge" 2. " That the interior structure of Christianity, its fitnesses 
to man, the reply which it gives to his deepest demands, also promise 
this supremacy." 3. " That the accomplishment of this final supre- 
macy of Christianity will nobly complete the circle of History ; tvill 



410 RICHARD S. STORRS, JR. 

give unity and wholeness to the annals of the Race; will show through 
their courses a sublime method." 4. " That the specific declarations 
of God in the Scriptures assure us of that result ;" and, lastly, 
" That the historic progress of Christianity among men, with the 
nature of the arena on which it now acts, gives assurance of its 
supremacy r ." The writer concludes as follows : 

" How ought we then, my friends, to labor for Christianity ? to 
spread its Truth, its Promise and Life? For this one practical 
lesson, I have brought to you the subject. Cheerfully, joyfully 
should we labor; with enthusiasm and confidence, and with the 
energy of endeavor which these inspire. We are placed at a criti- 
cal point in the progress. Our agencies and advantages are vast for 
action. If we act vigorously, we send an influence far out on Time. 
If we now falter, and turn upon our course, if we think that Chris- 
tianity is becoming effete, that some new force must take its place, 
that some manifestation of Christ in His glory must precede its 
supremacy — we are failing at the point, where of all we should be 
strong. The moral argument against such theories, derived from 
their influence in repressing Christian activity, is definite and just. 
The hostile pressure from the Scriptures and from the past, is enough 
to overwhelm them. Let us never allow them to hamper our effort. 
Our duty is to work ! with ardor and fidelity ; not with passionate, 
fitful impulse, but with an energy that abides, and grows mightier 
as developed — 

1 Like the star — unhasting ; 
Like the star — unresting !' 

" We ought to grapple Christianity ourselves, with a firmer faith, 
with a deeper attachment ; to illustrate its beauty more brightly in 
our life : to enter more largely its truth and promise, and its spirit 
of grace. We ought to apply i£ more stringently to affairs. We 
ought to spread it more rapidly to others. As an age distinguished 
for the rapid extension, of commercial relations, and the rapid ad- 
vance of mechanic arts, this should be pre-eminently a missionary 
age. The resources God gives us, are to be used in His service. 
Let an unfailing trust direct their application. With everv im- 



SUPREMACY OF CHRISTIANITY. 411 

provement which invention develops, our effort should increase ; 
with every new field that opens before us, its reach should be 
wider. The press, the railway, steam-frigates, the voices that talk 
like genii in the air — they all must be subordinated, and more and 
more, to Him who cometh ! They arise to us in God's Providence — 
this swift unwearying foot, this iron lung, this column of fire which 
carries as well as guides, this nerve of nations — and so they must 
be used, by God's people for His purposes. What the Fathers did 
with art, as it rose in the cathedral, as it blushed upon the can- 
vas, that we must do with art, as it heaves in the engine, as it 
thrills on the wires. Amid these quick electric times, when knowl- 
edge is increasing, when many are running to and fro, when society 
is sensitive to every impulse, when God in His providence seems 
taking the masses, and shaking them asunder, that truth may reach 
them, when even across the seas He bares the kingdoms to the force 
of the Gospel, and breaks the archways beneath which we may 
bear the banner of Salvation. Now, more than ever, we should 
labor for Christ, and use every force for the spread of His system ; 
so that the annihilation of distance upon the earth may teach men 
what Carlyle says it cannot, ' the winged flight, through immensity, 
to God's Throne ;' so that the cheaper fabrics, the swifter railways, 
may ' help men towards what Novalis calls God, Freedom, and Im- 
mortality.' The penetrating despondency that enthralls some minds, 
as if Christianity were growing weak, — the subtle skepticism that 
binds the will with its fine filaments, and teaches men to doubt if 
the system can grapple the problems of our times, if it can master 
the resistances that here and there confront it, can work out freedom 
and truth among us, if it will not be lost amid politics and arts, if 
the personal coming of the Lord is not needed to renew it — let us 
cut sharply through this with the blade of God's promise ! Let us 
lift ourselves above it, remembering the past ! Let us never despond ! 
no, not for an hour ! We might have done that, under the terrible 
domination of the first persecution. We might have done that, 
when the sculptured sarcophagus of a system of Sacraments en- 
cased Christianity. But what have we to do with despondency, 
what with any thing but gladness, and the grandest activity, when 



412 RICHARD S. STORES, JR. 

standing with the Scriptures open and free, with Christianity throned 
in them, and God on their side, amid an era so brilhant and pro- 
pitious ! Oh, if we have faith and a justified courage, if we use the 
resources God gives us so amply, if we draw down by prayer that 
aid which He has pledged — then may we see this truth progressing 
broadly, with vast rapidity, towards glorious predominance ! The 
redemption of Christ, the glory of God, the beauty of Heaven, the 
grace of the Spirit — on all the troubled waves of life these shall 
shed their sweet influence. They shall kindle new joy throughout 
the race. Meliorations in society shall follow them as they go, re- 
sponding to their impulse. They shall cover the earth with forms 
of beauty ! By every hope that springs within us, by the confi- 
dence of prayer inspired of the Spirit, by the ' manifold voices of 
history and the present, by the promises that stud the arch of God's 
word — we know that to be possible ! For that, Christianity was 
given and is fitted ! For that, then, we should strive ! until the 
Fact answers the Prophecy ; until the dawn has brightened into 
day! 

" For the last thought, my hearers, connected with this subject, 
how vividly does this come to us : The personal obligation of each of 
us to submit from the heart to Chrisfs dominion! The ancient 
legend of the Church, that Julian died exclaiming as he expired, 
' Galilean, thou hast conquered !' is certain to be realized, for the 
substance of its history, in every soul not submitted to Christ. His 
rule at last shall be complete ; and the period of that sway shall 
encompass eternity. How great then the privilege of now accepting 
Him ; of entering through faith the kingdom He administers ; of 
finding in that our permanent home ! It is very observable in the 
scriptural disclosures, concerning the glory to be reached in mil- 
lennium, that the blessedness of earth seems to shade away into the 
blessedness of heaven. The horizon of the Future to the inspired 
seer, instead of being sharp and defined against the embosoming 
eternity, as was that of the past, where time in its relations to man 
began, melts away into glory, and is merged in the infinite ; as the 
edge of the cloud is dissolved beneath the splendor of the sun at his 
setting ; and one can scarcely tell where earth has closed and heaven 



FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW. 413 

begins. Ah, that shall be the felicity of the soul that has truly and 
inwardly taken Christ as its prince ! It shall dwell on earth and 
dwell in heaven ; on the glorified earth, bright with Christ's pres- 
ence, amid the rapture of heaven, where He is enthroned ! But in 
that last and glorious age — oh, let us feel this ! — that age to whose 
perfection all others shall have contributed, and in whose glory they 
all shall be crowned ; there will be found no place on earth, no 
place in heaven, for him who hath not bowed to Christ 1 The do- 
minion of Messiah hath no premises for him 1" 

In a discourse entitled " The Civil Law — man's obligation to obey 
it," after what we conceive to be a most manly and masterly exposi- 
tion of the subject, abstractly considered, application of the princi- 
ples set forth is made to the particular case of the Fugitive Slave 
Law, and Dr. Storrs thus defines his own position in respect to the 
surrender of the Fugitive Slave : 

"Nay, nay, my friends! I cannot do this essential injustice! 
Though the commands of the law were a hundredfold more strin- 
gent, I would not touch a hair of that man's head ! Though its 
penalties were accumulated to tenfold greatness, they should not 
shut my doors against him ! I will not resist the law by force and 
violence. I will even advise the man to flee it, if he can, and not 
resist it, although it hurls him back upon his right of self-defence. 
But I will not obey it, unless by bearing its penalties. The man 
who does otherwise is in peril of his soul. For eternity is grander 
than time and its scenes ! The eye that shall search our life at the 
judgment is more terrible than that of the human tribunal ! and he 
that hath done wrong shall meet it there ! The omniscience of 
God will never forget it ! I do not find that my fathers covenanted 
that I should do this act ; but if they did, it must be cancelled. I 
cannot renew a covenant for such a crime. It is said that the Union 
is imperilled by such refusal. But consequences are doubtful, and 
right is definite. It is right to do what God's law bids us, in rela- 
tion to our brother, though the world shake beneath us ! I know 
the results that seem poised upon the Union. But if that is right- 
eous, and is worthy of preservation, it cannot require such iniquity 
to its support, God certainly would not save it by the disregard of 



4:14: RICHARD S. STORES, JR. 

his law. And he that does the right, under the government of God, 
is always safe. He falls in with the lines of God's purpose and 
requirement. He works towards the ultimate good of all ! He is 
in harmony with that system whose law is holiness." 

We had marked also for insertion here portions of an article in 
the February number of the New Englander for 1853, upon " The 
True Success of Human Life," and of a discourse delivered in 1854, 
on the occasion of the semi-centennial anniversary of Monson Academy, 
upon " The Relations of our Present and Coming Civilization to Good 
Letters and their Progress." But we have already exceeded our 
limits, and cannot insert them, although we long to do so. If Dr. 
Storrs had never published any thing but the Discourse last men- 
tioned, it would, in our judgment, of itself have sufficed to give him 
a place as a writer in the very front rank of American clergymen now 
living, and that we know of, whether old or young. There is also 
before us, " The Report of the Committee appointed by the Society 
for the Promotion of Collegiate and Theological Education at the 
West, to confer with the Trustees of Western Reserve College ;" 
which was drawn up by Dr. Storrs, and has scarcely a figure of 
speech in it, but which our friend, the unimaginative critic, will find 
to be as patiently, judiciously, and ably prepared, as if Dr. Storrs had 
never made use of a metaphor since he was born. 

One extract more we must make, however, from a platform ad- 
dress made before the American Bible Society, at its thirty-fifth 
anniversary, in support of the fourth and following resolution : 

" Resolved, That the translation of the Divine Word into the 
languages of man is a work of such difficulty, such liability to error, 
and such immeasurable importance, as properly to demand for those 
engaged in it the affectionate consideration of this Society, and the 
sympathy and prayers of all who love God." 

Mr. Storrs thus speaks of our obligations to the present version 
of the Scriptures, and the influence it has exerted upon our liter- 
ature : 

" And now consider what influence this version has put into our 
literature — I might say into all the history and life of the English 
people. It comes to us with authority from our childhood. Its 



A NEW VERSION OF THE BIBLE. 415 

words are heard amid circumstances best adapted to make them 
impressive — on the Sabbath, in the churches, in the family devotions. 
They have been taught in even the common-schools of our land, 
blessed be God for that ! They have become wrought, we may say, 
into the very substance and texture of our thoughts, our associations, 
our earliest and most cherished expressions. And so they act 
mightily, as an educating power, on the popular mind. They have 
done so for generations. They act even upon the higher depart- 
ments of literature. What delicate, fairy-like forms this tough and 
oaken Saxon, so skilfully combined with the more majestic Roman 
tongue, has been wrought into in hymns and the structures of 
poetry ; in those beautiful ' Songs of Zion,' to which reference has 
been made ! Who has not observed in the great senatorial orator 
of our times, that when he rises to the highest point of eloquence, 
the very pitch of his power, he reverts to the simple Biblical phraso 
that was familiar to us in childhood ? And it is by that that he shakes 
the heart of his hearers with his wonderful force. For what would 
we give up the influences which this version has put in our literature ? 
For what would we give up the version itself ? There is a company 
of gentlemen, I believe, in this city who are desiring and endeavor- 
ing to put this out of use, and to substitute another for it, prepared 
according to their notions. I do not speak, certainly, as a mem- 
ber of a committee, or of any society, but simply as a Christian 
man, indebted too deeply to our most noble version to be willing to 
give it up, when I say, that no man, in my judgment, intelligently 
weighing this matter, would think for a moment of such an exchange. 
Give up our version, sir ? Why it was nine hundred years in com- 
ing to its completion ! It is hallowed with such memories as 
scarcely belong to another human work. It stretches back one of 
its far-reaching roots to the very cell of Bede. It strikes down 
another beneath the burnt ashes of Wickliffe. It sends another 
under the funeral pile of Tyndale. It twists another around the 
stake where Cranmer was burned. Give up this version for a trim 
and varnished new one ! Nay, verily. Those broad contorted arms 
have wrestled with the fierce winds of opinion for two hundred years. 
The sweet birds of heaven have loved to come and sing among them ; 






41(7 RICHARD S. STORRS, JR. 

and they sing there still. Their leaves are leaves of life and healing. 
There is not a text pendant upon those boughs but has the stuff of 
religion and literature in it. They have given of their ribbed 
strength to every enterprise for human welfare. Give up this ver- 
sion ! It is our American inheritance. It came over in the May 
Flower ; it was brought by Oglethorpe to Georgia ; it has spread 
across our land ; it has been the joy of generations to sit under 
its shadow. It will stand while the hills stand. Sir, I think we will 
not give up this oak of the ages for any modern tulip-tree, at present." 
We have said that the Church of the Puritans (Mr. Beecher's) 
was an offshoot from the Church of the Pilgrims. It is, or used to 
be, very much the fashion, therefore, in the community where both 
minister, to institute comparisons between the respective pastors, 
some of which have seemed to us in no sort legitimate. To say 
nothing of the difference in age and experience, it is well-nigh 
impossible to conceive two individuals more unlike — physically, 
mentally, generally. They may be contrasted, but that sort of com- 
parison, which makes either the standard by which to judge . the 
other, is altogether incorrect, we think. Men are not required to 
labor their lives long, in destroying whatever individuality God 
may have given them, by servilely copying somebody else ; on the 
contrary, they are required to be their own improved and perfected 
selves. The primeval oak would make but a poor ancestral elm. 
Mercury was not Mars, nor Juno, Minerva, yet the old mythology 
put them all upon Olympus. Mi*. Storrs seems like one who knew 
books better than men: Mr. Beecher knows men as men know 
books. Mr. Storrs preaches subjects to men : Mr. Beecher, them- 
selves to men. Mr. Beecher is intensely practical : Mr. Storrs, 
though he never visits dream-land, loves once in a while to think 
of it. Mr. Storrs can say witty things: Mr. Beecher cannot help 
saying funny things. Mr. Beecher is rugged and abrupt : Mr. Storrs 
polished and complete. Mr. Storrs is earnest and impressive : Mr. 
Beecher impassioned and explosive. Mr. Storrs excels in the rich- 
ness of his rhetoric : Mr. Beecher in the richness of his ideas. Mr. 
Storrs uses fine powder and a smooth-bore rifle, silver mounted : 
Mr. Beecher double charges a rusty-looking creased-bore, with a 



LITURGIES. 417 

mixture of coarse and fine, and bites the bullet that never misses. 
Mr. Storrs has no lack of veneration : Mr. Beecher has no lack of the 
want of it. Mr. Storrs is not fond of controversy : but the scalding 
waters of debate could not even parboil Mr. Beecher. What then ! 
Must the Arab courser become the English w T ar-horse, or Richard's 
battle-axe, the Damascus blade of Saladin ? Must the Corinthian 
column become Doric, or Lebanon, Sinai ? Shall the material 
world be full of variety, and the mental and spiritual be fiat and 
uniform ? Shall not the key-bugle sound its own note, but would 
the walls of Jericho have tumbled, if Gideon's rams' -horns had imi- 
tated the sackbut ? For our own part, we are thoroughly glad, that 
two men so unlike in temperament and mental character, so similar 
in catholicity of spirit, in loftiness of aim, and in consecration of 
purpose, should have been placed at such posts, and in juxtaposition. 
They differ widely — all others do, and it is best they should. 

Mr. Storrs has of late appeared as a strong advocate of what is 
called, although not with entire correctness, a Congregational Lit- 
urgy. Some seem to suppose that the movement upon this subject 
contemplates a grafting of the Episcopal Prayer-Book, or certain por- 
tions of it, upon Congregational churches. We understand it to be, 
in the main, and simply, a movement in favor of Congregational 
worship : that is to say, of certain forms and methods of church 
worship, adapted to, and capable of being shared by the whole con- 
gregation. 

In respect of this subject, the Episcopal Church seems to be at one 
extreme, and the Congregational at the other. The proper mean, it 
is thought, is between both of them. There can be no question that 
other denominations recognize. very, very much that is most devout 
and beautiful in the forms of the Episcopal Church. Still they 
are thought to be too stiff oftentimes, and unyielding ; not always 
adapting themselves to the wants of the congregation, or the exigen- 
cies of circumstances. This indeed is felt to be an evil, by some at 
least among Episcopalians themselves. In the Congregational 
Church, as a rule, the entire office of external worship devolves upon 
the clergyman at one end of the church, and the choir and organist 
at the other. Just here, then, the question arises, What is the grand 

27 



418 RICHARD S. STORRS, JR. 

and primal object for which each Christian congregation meets upon 
the Sabbath day ? Certainly not to hear a minister preach, or a 
choir sing; but for the appropriate public worship of God — the 
privilege, and duty of worship, belonging just as much to the child 
in the gallery, as to the minister in the pulpit. In this respect, the 
whole congregation stands upon the same footing : the true congre- 
gational idea of a minister, in its simplest elements being, a man 
chosen and set apart by the congregation, on account of the excel- 
lence of his attainments, the superiority of his character, and the 
purity of his piety, to be its leader, guide, and instructor in religious 
things. In no sense is he like the Jewish High Priest, going once 
a year alone into the inner sanctuary, making the offerings, and 
bearing the sins for the whole congregation. Nor is the church a 
religious lecture-room, with gallery and choir, but a temple for God's 
worship ! Are, then, the true ends of the Sabbath assemblage best 
answered, by allowing minister and choir to perform the whole 
external act of a duty binding alike upon all? There are many 
ministers, whose extemporaneous prayers are always fervent and 
appropriate. There are others of devout spirit, and nice sense of 
propriety, who fail, nevertheless, in instant and fitting expression. 
There are others of fervent and fluent utterance, who not infre- 
quently indulge in petitions, that shock the feelings of all assembled. 
But in the first case mentioned, the congregation cannot know 
what is to be asked for, until the words are uttered. In the second, 
the labor and difficulty of following the minister, interferes seriously 
with the enjoyment and benefit of the act of worship. In the third, 
an individual must make choice of one of three alternatives : either 
to unite in a petition which he does not approve, or to offer a dif- 
ferent petition himself from the clergyman with whom he is sup- 
posed to be uniting, or offer none. 

Would not, then, the true ends of the Sabbath service be better 
attained, by a form of worship only to be adopted by the congrega- 
tion after careful thought and discussion, but which, when once 
adopted, all might know, and in which all might join ? There is 
no Episcopacy about this. Episcopacy is surely something else 



CONGREGATIONAL WORSHIP. 419 

than a cliurch where the entire congregation joins audibly in the 
service. Suppose, for example, any one church of the Congrega- 
tional denomination, or delegates from an association of churches, 
should agree to have church singing, instead of choir singing ; to 
have the portion of Scripture selected for the day, read alternately 
by pastor and people ; to have the Lord's Prayer and Apostles' Creed 
embodied into the service, and to recommend to all the congrega- 
tion to join in these, with whatever further recommendations might 
be made, and we only mention these by way of illustration — and 
suppose that for these recommendations, were claimed only the 
weight, and authority, which the wise and careful counsel of a 
majority always should have, and which recommendations, if adopted, 
should in nowise interfere with the minister's liberty of extempo- 
raneous prayer, whenever occasion required; would there be any 
thing contrary to the spirit of Congregationalism in this ? Would 
not a form of service, based oipon such recommendations, tend rather 
to increase the interest of young and old in sanctuary observances, 
to inspire increased respect for the word and the house of God, and be 
more in accordance with true ideas of Sabbath worship % The ques- 
tion, after all, turns upon this, for the right to adopt such a form is 
inherent in every Congregational church, and it is not legitimate to 
kill such a proposed change by the bare statement " that it is an 
innovation upon long-established Congregational forms." It was 
John Robinson himself who said, " If God reveal any thing to you, 
by any other instrument of his, be as ready to receive it as ever you 
were to receive any truth by my ministry, for I am verily persuaded, 
— I am very confident, the Lord has more truth yet to break out of 
his holy word." There was undoubtedly a tendency on the part of 
the first dissenters, who broke away from what they conceived the 
extreme of formalism, to rush themselves to the other extreme. The 
Pilgrims were men of the times, and for the times ; although, in 
more respects than we can enumerate, men that have been unsur- 
passed since the world stood. But it from thence in nowise follows 
that Gothic temples should be defaced, or images broken, or witches 
hanged, or the Connecticut blue-laws re-enacted. Practically, too, 



420 RICHARD S. STORKS, JR. 

there lias been innovation. Meeting-houses are churches, ministers 
are clergymen, congregations do join in singing, and — a worse sort, 
of innovation — sit in prayer. 

In these hasty remarks, we have in the main indicated the views 
which we believe are held by Dr. Storrs. The subject is interesting, 
and we should like to enter more largely into it, had we time. 

We are sure, there is enough upon both sides of the question to 
deserve most careful thought and discussion. It must be met upon 
its own merits, if met at all. It cannot be killed by the sharp, but 
superficial statement, however skilfully flung, that the movement 
savors of Episcopacy. Before now, extremes have met, and we are 
sure there is a leaven of real worth in this subject, which is quietly 
but effectually working, and which will prove itself powerful for 
good, within a few close-coming years. 

But we must close, even though we would gladly abide longer in 
the shadow of a good man. We can .only say in conclusion, that 
few men are more genial and delightful in intimate social life than 
Br. Storrs. There is a natural sensitiveness and reserve, apparent in 
general society, which disappears altogether when he is among those 
by whom he is best known. He combines very great simplicity of 
character, and gentleness of disposition, with the most thorough 
fearlessness, and presents in his own person a choice example of the 
Christian gentleman. 




A^ 



STEPHEN HIGGINSON TYNG, 

THE EXTEMPORE PREACHER. 



Whatsoever shall "be given you in that hour, that speak ye.' 



Dr. Tfng, as a representative preacher, should be discussed in 
three aspects — as an extempore preacher, a preacher to the young, 
and an impersonation of extreme " Low-Church " sentiments. 

As an extempore speaker he has not his superior in the American 
Pulpit ; and if, in comparative criticism, one includes all the par- 
ticulars which enter into accomplished Extempore, he has not his 
equal. He excels in self-possession, in fluency, in command of lan- 
guage, in quotation, in local allusions, in keen thrusts, in denuncia- 
tion, in fire of expression, in flash of eye, in force of gesture, and in 
climaxes of eloquence. Public sentiment regards him as Prince of 
Platformers. 

In view of this it is a significant fact, full of encouragement to 
young professional men, that Dr. Tyng did not begin professional 
life as a remarkable extempore speaker. He was forced into Extem- 
pore by circumstances. During the first two years after taking 
orders he was obliged to teach school for a livelihood, and, having 
little time for writing sermons, was compelled to talk in the pulpit. 
And yet so seldom did he satisfy himself with the extempore expres- 
sion of his thought and feeling, and so liable was he to failure, that 
for years Extempore was uphill work. But, from the outset, regard- 
ing this as the best way of preaching, he persevered against dis- 
couragements, and though cast down, would not be destroyed. He 



422 STEPHEN H. TYNG. 

reasoned that the pulpit is established, partly for instruction, but 
principally for the kindling of sensibilities, the rousing of affections, 
the awakening of the soul. The school is the place for instruction, 
and the pulpit for inspiration. And instruction, when used in the 
pulpit, is rather a means to inspiration than an end in itself. All 
thorough and precise elaboration of truth, which properly forms the 
foundation of a sermon, belongs to the study, and is best embodied 
in writing; but the application of that truth by illustration, by 
expression of heart-beatings, by personal appeal, by all the varied 
manifestation of sympathy and interest and love, is best expressed 
by Extempore, and can with difficulty be naturally and effectively 
expressed by reading or recitation. Expression must come fresh 
from the heart, to reach the heart, with all the dewdrops on it. 
The Quakers cling to a strong position, so far as the department of 
preaching goes. They insist on entire faith in the inspiration of 
the moment. The command, " Take no thought beforehand what 
ye shall speak, neither do ye premeditate," they obey. Hence their 
preachers, when destitute of education, of mental discipline, of cul- 
ture, and of superior natural endowment, interest and move an audi- 
ence to a singular degree. And when possessing the gifts and edu- 
cation which form the most effective preacher, they hold an audience 
in more thorough control than equally gifted preachers who rely on 
special preparation. In writing, one is too self-conscious, thought 
gives way to form, and rhetoric usurps the place of truth ; but let a 
preacher, with self-forgetful consecration and reliance on God's help, 
cast himself on the waters of Extempore, full of his subject and fired 
with love, and he will inevitably speak " thoughts that breathe and 
words that burn." Such, we apprehend, would be a fair statement 
of Dr. Tyng's views. 

With this conviction of the importance of Extempore in the 
pulpit, Dr. Tyng held on against all failures and discouragements. 
As an illustration of this we cannot withhold an anecdote casually 
told, in a conversation on oratory, by a friend and brother clergy- 
man of Dr. Tyng's. He said, " To illustrate what perseverance can 
do, I must tell you a fact about Dr. Tyng. You know his proud 
position as an extempore preacher. He has gained it by the power 



EXTEMPORE. 423 

of will. It was discouraging business to him for the first years ; 
so much so, that, during the second year of his settlement at George- 
town, when attempting Extempore one afternoon in his pulpit, with 
distinguished members of Congress present, he became confused, 
hesitated, tried to regain composure, failed, stumbled on in the 
midst of embarrassment, finally forgot his text, and, after ten 
minutes, broke down completely. That was a hard experience for 
a young man ; and on his way home the oppressive silence was 
finally broken by his wife saying, ' Now, husband, is it not clear 
that you should give up this preaching without notes?' 'Those 
words,' said Dr. Tyng to me, ' roused my whole nature.' c Give up ?' 
I said. 'No, never, with God's help!' and he didn't. And yet 
that man, fluent as he is, brave and self-reliant as he seems, never 
goes into the pulpit without painful apprehensions, sometimes even 
the most painful conviction of impending failure. He is sensitive to 
circumstance and surroundings, is easily disturbed, and even harassed 
by changes or interruptions, rarely if ever feels a comfortable satis- 
faction with a public effort, and more often is prostrated by dis- 
couragement at supposed failure." 

Truly the life of the extempore preacher is a hard life to lead ; 
yet, perhaps, the very sensibility of nerve, the veiy tremulousness of 
spiritual fibre, susceptible to such pain, is the essential of the ex- 
tempore orator, who is called to thrill the duller hearts of others 
with the throbbing inspiration of his own. 

There are special difficulties connected with pulpit Extempore. 
The limited time is a serious one. The speaker dare not enlarge 
as the thought develops, lest he speak too long, or be forced to 
omit the closing application. The customary length of a sermon is 
often too brief to pass from the foundation of calm exposition to the 
pinnacle of towering eloquence. This is especially the case with Dr. 
Tyng, who times himself by a clock in his pulpit, preaching usually 
thirty, and rarely more than thirty-five minutes. In neither of these 
ways is the orator of the bar or forum hampered. He may speak 
successive hours or even days ; he may modify to-day the free ex- 
pression of yesterday ; he may enlarge, and enforce, and illustrate to 
the full satisfaction of an appreciating and fruitful intellect. 



424 STEPHEN" H. TYNG. 

Moreover, the preacher's sense of responsibility — greater thar the 
lawyer's — tends to paralyze rather than strengthen. A sense of 
personal superiority, too, promotes good Extempore, from which 
the preacher is debarred ; because the difference is less between him 
and his audience than between a lawyer and his jury, and because 
his religion inculcates humility. Hence he is in danger of being 
dull by self-restraint if he be not foolish by freedom. 

Yet the preacher has two advantages which overshadow all disad- 
vantages — conviction of speaking the truth, and divine assistance, 
both promised and imparted. Let then the example of Dr. Tyng stim- 
ulate to effort. There is no peculiar gift, in Extempore more than in 
writing, or acquisition, or mechanics. Every man, to be sure, has 
his calling. Some will succeed in one thing better than others. 
William Xorris, of Philadelphia, for example, failed more tha r, 
as a merchant, and then said, passionately, " I will never try again : 
I was born to be a blacksmith, I always wanted to be a black- 
smith, now I will be a blacksmith*." And he kept his word ; opened 
a shop in the country at first, and now builds the world-renowned 
locomotives, whose manufacture has yielded multiplied fortunes. 
Every man has his gift, but no more of speaking than of writing. 
Perseverance will win the prize for most. And is it not the highest 
object offered to the men of the ~New World — success as the Extil- 
pore Preacher ? 



DR. TYSG'B SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 

A second veiy interesting part of Dr. Tyng's character and life is 
his successful effort in Sunday-schools. The following sentences, 
culled from a sermon, will indicate his sentiments : 

" The great object which we have in view in Sabbath-school in- 
struction is — ' to plant the children of our land ' in the house of the 
Lord.' We wish to constitute true piety their pleasure and their 
home ; to make the privileges and ordinances of the Gospel, the ap- 
pointed channels of divine grace to man, the soil in which they are 
to grow, and the atmosphere from which they are to be nourished 
by the blessing of God containing and imparting the - ifl itity, the 



SUNDAY-SCHOOLS. 425 

life-giving spirit by which they are to be sustained, and through 
which they are to gain the gift of life eternal. This is the grand 
object of Sunday-school instruction. 

" It is a well-known fact, that there have been already, in the 
Sunday-schools of this country, many thousand children spiritually 
renewed for God. There probably is not a pastor in our land whos,e 
affections, and time, and prayers have been given in any fair measure 
to this important part of^his great work of winning souls, but can 
testify to the faithfulness of God in his blessing upon this interesting 
portion of the flock. There is no part of the pastor's charge which 
so readily and surely rewards him for all the toil and effort which 
he devotes to it as the Sunday-school. It has appeared to me, for 
several years, a remarkable and unaccountable oversight among many 
of the ministers of Christ, who, I doubt not, really feel an interest in 
the salvation of souls, that so little comparative attention has been 
given to what all my observation and judgment, as well as all my 
own experience, have united to convince me is the most pliable por- 
tion of the subjects of their effort, and the field which renders them 
the most speedy and abundant harvest for the labor which is be- 
stowed upon it. Their minds are stored with the truths of the holy 
Word of God. They have acquired, and have laid up, a knowledge 
of the Scriptures — the facts, the doctrines, the instructions, the pre- 
cepts of the Scriptures, wdiich no other method ever devised could 
have imparted. They are thus, in their knowledge of spiritual 
things, wiser than their teachers could have been before this system 
of useful effort was established. This is an advantage of incalculable 
importance. The Bible is made to them a familiar book. Then 
the Bible is made to them a book of enjoyment. It is surrounded 
in their minds with the most attractive and pleasant associations. 
The way in which it has been brought before them has given to it a 
peculiar charm. Their acquirement of its instructions has been en- 
tirely voluntary. The connections of the Sunday-school have called 
into exercise the kindest feelings of their nature, and chiefly devel- 
oped the most precious and purest affections of their hearts. There 
is nothing gloomy or repulsive connected with the word of God in 
the associations of their minds. 



STEPHEN H. TYXG. 

" Then, under this instruction, children acquire a love for the ordi- 
nances of public worship, the institutions of the Lord's house. They 
have no other associations than those of pleasure and happiness con- 
nected "with the religious services of the sanctuary. The Sabbath 
has not been to them a weary day. Its successive arrival is attended 
voth nothing that is repulsive. They grow up to the settled period 
and state of life with the feeling of gladness in going up to the house 
of the Lord more and more deeply engravqp upon their hearts. They 
have been accustomed to find, and to look for, real enjoyment con- 
nected with it ; and they expect it, even in the maturity of life, with 
no other anticipation. There has been no cultivation of the dispo- 
sition to sit down with the scornful, or to unite with those who scoff" 
at sacred things. Now, who can doubt the importance of this at- 
tainment ? Who can fail to see how much and how effectually it 
prepares the way for the subsequent conversion of the soul, and the 
renovation of the character for God ? What benefit, short of the 
actual spiritual regeneration of them all, can be greater or of more 
importance in its consequences to our youth, and to our land, than 
to surround the blessed and life-giving ordinances of the Gospel in 
their minds with attraction and pleasure. * * * * 

" The American Sunday-school Union was never better prepared 
to meet the increasing wants of the country, or to expend with ad- 
vantage the increasing pecuniary assistance of the Christian commu- 
nity, than now. Under the control of business-laymen alone, there 
is no possible danger either of ecclesiastical dominion or interference. 
If it is said to be a mere book concern, let it not be forgotten that 
the only stockholders are the whole community of Christians, and 
they reap all the profit of the establishment. Let the publications 
of this Union be examined, let the system upon which it acts be 
understood, let the results which it has accomplished be weighed, 
and I can hardly suppose that any Christian will come to any other 
conclusion than my own — that, for the special blessing of our rising 
generation, it is a precious gift of God to our country, and claims 
for its enlargement and support the united efforts of Christians of 
every name." 

Of the great work which Dr. Tyng accomplished in Philadelphia 



SERMON TO CHILDREN. 427 

for Sunday-school instruction we shall not be able to speak, but confine 
our attention to the schools of St. George's Church, of New York. 

The first marked feature of the Sunday-school system of this 
Church is, that Dr. Tyng preaches specially to the children every 
Sunday afternoon in the church. These sermons are prepared 
with care, but are simple, brief, illustrative, and pertinent in appli- 
cation. Many of them belong to courses of sermons, one of which 
extends sometimes through twenty Sabbaths. For example ; one 
course was on the Zoology of the Bible, in which the animals of the 
Bible were discussed as illustrating traits of character. Another 
course was on the Horticulture and Botany of the Bible ; another 
on the Mountains of the Bible ; another on the Road to Zion ; another 
on the Biographies of leading Bible Characters ; and in these ser- 
mons, tree, plant, mountain, animal, man, were all made the instru- 
ment of impressing some important truth of religious or practical 
life. We give an outline of one sermon 1p children as illustrative : 

The text is from 2 Kings, xix. 30. *' Shall yet again take root 
downward, and bear fruit upward." 

" In every tree there are two separate processes of growth. These 
are here described. The illustration is employed to exhibit the 
growth of the remnant of the house of Judah. But it may just as 
properly apply to the history of the inner man, as of the outer man. 
It may just as well describe the whole work of true religion in the 
soul, as the external prosperity of a nation. Let us so consider it. 
Here are two processes of growth. 

" I. We may speak of the figure employed in the illustration. The 
Tree. It takes root downward, and bears fruit upward. These two 
results differ and agree. 

" 1. They differ much. One is secret, and cannot be exposed. The 
other is open, visible, and manifest. The one is the increase of real 
inward strength. The other of outward and apparent beauty and 
usefulness. The one increases under the power of trial and opposi- 
tion. The more the winds shake the tree, the stronger its root be- 
comes. The other requires protection and care. Heavy winds may 
cause its fall. The one is permanent, at ad seasons the same. The 
other is occasional, and has its appointed times. 



428 STEPHEN H. TYNG. 

" 2. But they also agree in much. The same sap and nourishment 
feeds them both. They partake of the same life. They are differ- 
ent manifestations of the same life. In the one, the nourishment 
received, gives increase of strength. In the other, the same nourish- 
ment furnishes increasing beauty and usefulness. But whether we 
look at the root or the fruit, — it is the same tree, — and both de- 
pend upon the same health and vigor in its being and growth. 

" II. We may apply the illustration to the life of true religion in 
the soul. And here the root and the fruit agree and differ just as 
remarkably. 

" 1. They agree in much. The tree is one. The work of religion 
in the soul is one work. You can never separate the root from the 
fruit it is to bear. The one cannot live without the other. The 
real Christian is the same within and without, in heart and life. 

" The ground is one. The same soul of man has both the root 
and the fruit. It is one work of God upon the soul, whether you 
look at one part of it, or at another. Eeligious principles and re- 
ligious duties, must grow and live together, in the same ground. 

" The sap and nourishment is one. The same Holy Spirit gives 
life to the soul within, and fruit "in the character without. It is 
His power which plants the tree, — and makes the root to strike 
down, in the experience of the heart within, — and then makes 
it to bring forth its fruit, in the holiness and usefulness of the life 
without. 

" But the fruit is entirely dependent on the root, not the root on 
the fruit. There can be no fruit on the tree without a living grow- 
ing root. The work of religion begins always within, in the power 
of the Holy Spirit there. All that is outward, is secondary and 
grows from that. 

" 2. But they differ also much. The root is the work of the Spirit 
in the heart. The fruit is His work in the life. A new and con- 
verted heart is the work of true religion. A holy, faithful life is its 
fruit. 

" This root is secret. It cannot be seen or displayed. It grows in 
its hidden process, deeper every day. It strikes more and more into 
the soul. It is a deeper sense of sin in ourselves. A clearer view 



SEBMON TO CHILDREN. 429 

of the guilt of sin. A growing feeling of humility and depen- 
dence. More simple faith in God. More real love for His char- 
acter and His Ltvy, and holy will. More hatred of sin and desire for 
holiness. These are the root. The work of the Spirit in the heart. 
More simple dependance on the Holy Spirit. More real love for the 
Saviour. More desire for His forgiveness and acceptance. These 
grow downward. The heart is more and more engaged — we feel it — 
we are conscious of it — we rejoice in it. But'others cannot see it. 
This is the witness which the Spirit gives to us. 

" The fruit is open. The fruits of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, 
&c. This is the fulfilment of duty in every relation in life, at home 
and abroad. It is gentleness, meekness, tenderness, faithfulness. 
Ah ! these are blessed fruits. They are lovely in aspect. Precious 
and valuable indeed. They grow upon the tree which God has 
planted, and which the Holy Spirit nourishes in the soul. 

" This fruit is for others, not for us. They gather it, and enjoy it. 
They see it and delight in it. We cannot. It makes the value of 
the tree in their esteem. We feel the root, but cannot see the 
fruit. They see the fruit, but cannot see the root from which it 
grows. 

" This fruit grows upward. God is its motive and object. It is to 
honor and glorify Him. We are faithful to others for His sake. 
To please Him, we strive to do them good. And He accepts and 
blesses us. 

u The root must always live. The fruit will not always be borne. 
Sometimes it is winter for the soul. We have discouragements — we 
can do nothing — we seem to be dead. But the root is still alive. 
The work of the Spirit may be still growing deeper within. We 
must never despond or fear because our apparent fruit for a season 
is less. Let us cultivate the root within, and watch around that. 
Let us strengthen that every day, This is our main work in re- 
ligion. Keep the heart with all diligence, and life and fruitfulness 
will issue out of it." 

2. Dr. Tyng meets with his Sabbath-school teachers every Friday 
evening, at which the lesson is developed to them as he wishes and 
expects that it will be taught to the pupils. He thus imbues the 



430 STEPHEN H. TYNG. 

teachers with his views of truth, and through them reaches every 
child of his congregation. 

3. On the first Sabbath afternoon of every month the children 
are gathered in the lecture-room for a missionary meeting, with 
special exercises. 

4. The Sabbath-schools include not only the children of the con- 
gregation, but hundreds gathered from among the poor by efficient 
missionary work. 

5. The children are stimulated to the highest effort for increasing 
the Sabbath-school and contributing to missionary purposes. During 
the last year some children have earned, by minute accretions, as 
large sums as twelve dollars for missionary purposes, and we know 
of one little girl who contributed twenty dollars. 

6. Each class has its name, with its illustrative text of Scripture 
and verse of poetry. At the end of the year the contribution of 
each class is published in a circular. From the report of last May 
we extract the following as specimens : 

Theee Eesoltjtions (Name of a Class), $36.00 

1st. We will always give something. 

2d. We will give as the Lord has enabled us. 

3d. "We will give cheerfully. 

Motto— 

" We have resolved with grateful heart, 
In this blest work to bear our part, 
Our prayers and offerings gladly bring 
To swell the triumphs of our King. 

" Soon may the nations join and sing, 
• y Christ is the Lord, the King of kings/ 

Echo the sound from shore to shore, 

That ' Jesus reigns for evermore.' " 

Heber Association, $26.56 

Motto — " And this I pray that your love may abound yet more and 
more." — Philippians i. 9. 

The Sowees, $12.00 

Motto — "Let me go, for the day breaketh." — Gen. xxxii. 26. 



SUXDAY-SCHOOL CLASSES. 431 

u Whom shall we send, and who 

For us will go to spread the Saviour's name, 
With glowing zeal — with faith, with courage true, 
And dying love proclaim ? 

" Servants of God, go forth, 
From these beloved walls ; 
Go, preach his Gospel through the earth, 
Till every idol falls. 

" The holy figpht maintain 

Till death ; with joyful trust 
That ye shall wear the crown, and reign 
Forever with the just!" 

Casket of Jewels, $10.00 

Motto — " They shall be mine when I make up my jewels." — Mai. 
iii. 17. 

Trees of Righteousness, $29.00 

Motto — " The glory of Lebanon shall come unto thee, the fir-tree, and 
the pine-tree, and the box together, to beautify the place of my sanc- 
tuary ; and I will make the place of my feet glorious." — Isa. lx. 13. 

" TnE Epiphany," $40.00 

Motto— " A light to lighten the Gentiles."— Luke ii. 23. 

Lord's Husbandmen, $38.00 

Motto — " "We are laborers together with God." — 1 Cor. iii. 9. 

" The harvest dawn is near, 
The year delays not long ; 
And he who sows with many a tear 
Shall reap with many a song. 

u Sad to his toil he goes, 

His seed with weeping leaves ; 
But he shall come at twilight's close, 
And bring his golden sheaves." 

Springs of Water, $32.50 

Motto — " As cold waters to a thirsty soul, so is good news from a 
far country." — Prov. xxv. 25. 



432 Stephen h. rrare. 

Loed's Aemob-Beaeees, , $30.00 

Motto — t; "Wherefore take unto you the whole armor of God, that ye 
may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to 
stand.'" — Eph. vi. 13. 

" Thomas Stoem Missionary Society," $15.00 

Motto — A token of respect to a faithful teacher. 

" A faithful teacher's name we bear, 
And pray he may hereafter wear 

A fadeless crown as his reward*. 
He shows us self-denying zeal, 
Has taught us others' wants to feel, 

And with sweet texts our mind has stored." 

Children of Iseael, ." $12.66 

Motto — "And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, Speak unto the 
children of Israel that they bring me an offering, of eYery man that 
giveth it willingly with his heart, ye shall take my offering." — Exodus 

XX Y. 1, 2. 

The following is the summary of the report : 

TO THE TEACHERS AXD SCHOLAES OF THE STJXEAY-SCHOOLS OF 
ST. geoege's CHTECH. 

My Dear Friends and Children : TTe have finished our Sixth Anni- 
versary with great delight. The rain prevented the attendance of many 
of our Scholars. Yet the Church was completely crowded with our 
schools and friends. Our schools are now larger than ever before. 
The school at the Church has 57 Teachers and 1163 Scholars, making 
1220. And the Mission-school has 33 Teachers and 433 Scholars. 
making 90 Teachers and 1596 Scholars. Total number of Teachers and 
Scholars, 1686. "We have never had so pleasant and animated an 
Anniversary before. 

Last year I reported to you our whole mission sum collected as 
$573.30 ; and the fund then in the hands of the Committee for Foreign 
Missions, $149-4.11. Our school then resolved to raise for the year now 
concluded, One Thousand Dollars. TTe brought all our gifts together 
at the Anniversary, and they have amounted to One Thousand Eight 
Hundred and Ticenty-ftve Dollars. I have paid this sum, of which 



twelve hundred dollars was in gold pieces, to the Treasurer of the 
Foreign Committee. And now we have in the hands of the Committee, 
u to be hereafter appropriated according to your wish," Three Thousand 
Three Hundred and Nineteen Dollars. I now give you a report of the 
names and contributions of our various Missionary Societies. Let us 
be thankful for what the Lord enables us to do. How many poor 
heathen children may we bless and save ! We shall get enough together 
in a few years, to build, and then to support, some School or Orphan 
Asylum by ourselves. Let us set out again, and work another year 
with energy and united love and zeal, and the Lord will bless us. 

To these sums we have to add $113.44, from our monthly Missionary 
collections, and $100, which was collected at the Anniversary. 

I shall hope to be much more with you, if the Lord shall permit, in 
the year to come. Until some new Superintendent shall be given to us, 
I shall take charge of the School at the Church myself. 

And now, my dear children, may the Lord bless you and keep you. 
May He make you His own children and servants. May He make you 
a blessing to many. Try to love and serve Him. Eemember, they 
who seek Him early shall surely find Him. And they who find Him, 
want no good thing. 

Your affectionate Pastor and faithful Friend, 

STEPHEN H. TYNG. 

St. George's Eectjoey, New York, May 1, 1855. 

Such are the statistics of the Sunday-schools of St. George's 
Church. Sixteen hundred pupils, nearly one hundred teachers, and 
one thousand eight hundred and twenty-five dollars given to the 
cause of Foreign Missions in one year ! It is an example to be 
considered. 



st. george's church. 

At the opening of this sketch, we spoke of Dr. Tyng as the im- 
personation of extreme " Low-Church" sentiments. Yet he should 
not be regarded as a representative of any portion of the Episcopal 
Church. He is not so esteemed by churchmen, he does not so 
esteem himself. If he be the representative of any Church, it is 
of St. George's Church. And this part of our description cannot 

28 



4:34: STEPHEN H. TYNG. 

be better presented than in his own words. On the 15th of April, 
1855, Dr. Tyng preached a discourse at the tenth Anniversary of 
his connection with St. George's Church, from which we extract 
largely. The text was, " God hath not given "us the spirit of fear, 
but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." After stating 
the qualifications of the minister, he proceeded to say — 

" Whether such a spirit has characterized my ten years' ministry 
among you, my beloved friends, you must judge for yourselves. 
That it ought to have distinguished it, I am bound to maintain. I 
have freely devoted to you, probably, the best ten years of my life. 
I am honestly conscious of having labored among you as earnestly 
and as assiduously as I have had strength to bear. I have habitually 
done this one thing, instant and unrelaxing in the work appointed 
me here. The pleasures of literature, the indulgences of general 
society, and even the occupations of mind which might have been 
made, in a degree, kindred to my ministry in the Gospel, I have 
cheerfully renounced, for the single purpose of giving my whole 
time and strength to you, and taking heed to my ministry to fulfil 
it. That I may be justly charged with many infirmities and errors 
in my work and walk among you, is beyond a doubt. But no man 
can charge me with eating any man's bread for naught, or with 
lording it over God's heritage, or with taking heed to the flock for 
filthy lucre's sake. I speak this in no vain-glorious boasting. And 
I shall make no apology for giving you a simple and concise ac- 
count of my ten years' ministry among you, however personal its 
allusions and details may appear. Whether its results and course 
indicate the spirit of power, and of a sound mind, I leave you and 
others at perfect liberty to judge. 

" I would first survey the history of our outward relation for the 
past ten years. It was an unexpected and singular providence which 
brought me here. For sixteen years before, I had ministered in 
Philadelphia ; for the last twelve of those among a flock where T 
never heard one syllable of reproach or dissatisfaction, and among 
whom, growing up around me, as children around a father, I never 
saw one single instance of division, nor ever heard, on any occasion, 
the language of discord. I said I should die in my nest. Not the 



ST. GEORGE'S CHURCH. 



435 



remotest thought of my removal from them, as my own possible 
act, ever came to my mind ; and never was such a removal more 
undesirable or more unlikely than when at last I was led to make 
it. The little, but important circumstances which made up that 
chain of manifest providence and obligation, I have not time to relate. 

" The chief inducement which finally led me here was the pro- 
posed opportunity of vastly extended influence and usefulness in my 
Master's cause, in this new field of labor, which we have now occu- 
pied for the six years past. The proposal for such a work had been 
made by my venerated predecessor, Dr. Miluor, before his death. 
Had he lived, he would undoubtedly have carried out the plan in 
some shape. And because I considered him, and not myself, the 
author of this scheme, which God has so prospered, I desired his 
monument should stand here, as it does stand, as a witness to others 
long after I am gone. 

" I had been here nearly a year before all the difficulties in the 
way of this enterprise, and the various preparatory considerations 
which must be regarded, were sufficiently removed to enable the 
Vestry actually to undertake the work. In March, 1846, they de- 
termined to build ; and, on the 23d of June, the corner-stone of this 
majestic temple was laid. On the 19th of November, 1848, we 
opened this edifice for public worship. The success which has 
crowned the undertaking has amply vindicated the spirit of power, 
of love, and of a sound mind, of those who so boldly undertook it. 
I need not refer to the difficulties through which the Vestry were 
compelled to force their way in the accomplishment of the work 
they had assumed. One of the most remarkable of all the features 
of the history, was the providence by which internal dissensions in 
the congregation, and outward hostility from others, in whose hands 
there was power to annoy, were made to arrest the premature sale of 
property of the corporation, and to tie it up, until such a change in 
its value as should fully relieve our obligations, had taken place. 
The opposition was meant for evil ; God was pleased to overrule it 
for remarkable good. In the mean time, he gave to one faithful 
friend of the Church the ability and the will to meet the whole 
responsibility. And it must never be forgotten that, to his disin- 



4:36 STEPHEN H, TTNG. 

terested energy and noble conception of Christian duty, this Church 
is wholly indebted for the edifice in which we now worship. The 
subsequent appreciation of the property of the Church, and the 
complete overcoming of all the obstacles which were placed in the 
way of its successful sale, enabled the Vestry to meet all the obli- 
gations which he assumed. But the prospect of such a result, at 
the time when this burden was undertaken by him, the most pru- 
dent men would have been ready to think the least probable. 
Thus has God prospered our outward relations, that we have now 
the church, the chapel, and the rectory, the clear and unincumbered 
property of the corporation. The completion of the spires, ac- 
cording to the original plan* is now under contract and in progress, 
to be perfected within two years. For this, abundant and safe pro- 
vision has been made. 

" We may now turn to consider the pecuniary consideration of 
this corporation during the ten years past. When I became the 
rector of this Church, ten years since, the property of the corpora- 
tion consisted of the church and rectory in Beekman-street, and of 
thirty house lots, received from Trinity Church, in the original en- 
dowment of St. George's, a part of that parish, as an independent 
Church. From these two sources the income of the corporation 
was derived. The whole pew-rent of the church, the year previous 
to my settlement, was less than fifteen hundred dollars. The in- 
come from the rents of the thirty lots was $5105. The debts of 
the corporation were about $20,000, making the whole net income 
of the church less than $5500. The value of these lots were esti- 
mated by a committee of the Vestry at that time at from $180,000 
to $200,000. With these means at their command, the Vestry 
entered upon the work of this edifice. The lot on which the 
church itself here stands was the donation of Peter G. Stuyvesant : 
and made by no means more to improve the value of his large 
surrounding property, than to manifest his own deep interest in the 
evangelical principles on which St. George's was well known to stand. 
The residue of the ground we occupy was subsequently purchased 
from his heirs, at a cost of $10,000. Upon this ground the Vestry 
have expended upon the church and its furniture, about $228,000. 



ST. GEORGE'S CHURCH. 



43' 



Upon the chapel and Sunday-school rooms, about $11,000. Upon 
the rectory, about 821,000, making in all about $260,000. Of this 
amount every dollar has been paid. The additional cost of *he 
spires will be $45,000 ; to which the bells and clock may be cal- 
culated as adding $10,000 more, making, in the whole investment 
in this enterprise, when completed, $325,000. For the contracted 
cost of the spires, provision has already been made in a lot of land 
valued at $20,000, reserved, and in an assigned excess of their 
annual income for a few years to come. And now, at the present 
period, the possessions of the corporation are, this whole property 
here, with its permanently completed edifices, and more than 
$100,000 in value of their original endowment still remaining in 
their hands. Against this they have no debts, and from this no 
interest or incumbrance to deduct. The present net clear income 
of this corporation is $10,500 from the pew-rents, and $5835 from 
their endowment, making $16,335, entirely clear of all exterior de- 
mands ; from the annual excess of which over their expenditures, 
together with the reserved lot already referred to, the perfect com- 
pletion of their great undertaking is seen to be easily anticipated 
and entirely secure. The fixed action of the Vestry, settled since 
March, 1851, has been, not to reduce the principal of their endow- 
ment, exclusive of the church and buildings in connection with it, 
below the sum of $100,000, but to finish all that remains of their 
work from means exclusive of this. And this may be now con- 
sidered, therefore, the fixed and established property of this cor- 
poration." 

The sermon proceeds to give. the religious history of the ten years, 
and closes with humble acknowledgment of God's guidance and 
goodness. The contributions of the Church to benevolent societies 
are found to amount to $77,095, during the ten years. 

The following biographical statement is copied from the United 
States Ecclesiastical Portrait Gallery. It is authentic : 

" The Rev. Stephen Higginson Tyng, D. D., was born in New- 
buryport, Massachusetts, March 1st, 1800. He was the second son 
of the Hon. Dudley Atkins Tyng, a distinguished lawyer of that 
State, who married a daughter of the Hon. Stephen Higginson, of 



438 STEPHEN H. TING. 

Boston, a member of the Convention which framed the Constitu- 
tion of the United States. He was entered at Harvard University 
in.1813, and graduated in 1817. Having no particular taste for 
either of the learned professions, he entered upon a merchant's life 
with most encouraging prospects of worldly success. But in 1819, 
it pleased God to call him to the work of the ministry. His course 
of theological studies was pursued at Bristol, R. I., under the supervis- 
ion and direction of Bishop Griswold. It was during Mr. Tyng's 
residence in Bristol, that a very remarkable revival of religion oc- 
curred in that place, commencing with St. Michael's congregation, 
and extending through the town. 

" Mr. Tyng was ordained a Deacon in the Protestant Episcopal 
Church, at Bristol, on the 4th of March, 1821. After his ordina- 
tion he removed to the South, and was settled the 1st of May, the 
same year of his ordination, as the minister of St. John's Church, 
Georgetown, D. C. There he remained for two years, zealously 
occupied in the discharge of ministerial duty, and not without 
witnessing fruits of his labor. A wider field opened before him, 
and he accepted an invitation to Queen Ann Parish, Prince George's 
county, Maryland. This was a delightful country abode, and furnished 
not only opportunities of improving labor in the best classes of so- 
ciety, but also the means of preparation for future and more exten- 
sive influence in the Church. It also opened extensive opportunities 
for missionary service, there being many districts in that and the 
neighboring parishes, especially in Virginia, where the scattered 
population seldom enjoyed opportunities for public worship in their 
vicinity. It was the custom of Mr. Tyng, in addition to his ordinary 
duties, to make extensive preaching tours in order to meet these 
wants. On one of these tours he travelled four hundred and fifty 
miles on horseback, in fourteen days, and during this period he 
preached seventeen times. 

" After laboring six years in Prince George's county, he was in- 
vited to become the rector of St. Paul's Church, Philadelphia. He 
took charge of that church in May, 1829. Perhaps no church in 
Philadelphia has ever exhibited such thronged audiences, as did St 
Paul's from 1830 up to the time of the resignation of its then 



BIOGRAPHY. 439 

rector. It was not the tinsel glitter of a decorated style, nor the 
attractive graces of a superior elocution, nor the charms of a novelty 
that perishes in its earliest efflorescence which drew those crowds, 
but the solemn, thrilling exhibition of the great doctrines of the 
Gospel set forth with the fervor and earnestness of one who pos- 
sessed a vigorous and powerful mind, who had made an entire 
consecration of himself to the Master he served, and who uniformly 
preached as though heaven and hell, the judgment-seat and eternity, 
were unveiled and directly before him. For about two years he 
held a daily six o'clock morning meeting in the vestry-room ; and 
during the whole period of his ministry at St. Paul's preached 
regularly three times each Sunday, besides attending to his weekly 
Lecture, and making addresses for every benevolent society through- 
out the city that asked his services. 

" It was during his ministry at St. Paul's, and at the annual com- 
mencement of Jefferson College in 1832, that the degree of Doctor 
of Divinity was conferred upon him by that institution. Whatr 
ever mistakes have been made by our literary institutions of late 
years, in the lavish conferring of this degree, if sound learning, ac- 
curate scholarship, extensive theological acquirements, vigorous 
intellect, and very superior pulpit powers, with great devotion to 
the work of the ministry, constitute legitimate grounds for the be- 
stowment of this honor, it was not injudiciously conferred in the 
present instance. 

"Dr. Tyng continued his labors at St. Paul's until October, 1833, 
when he was elected rector of the Church of the Epiphany. In the 
spring of 1845 he came to New York." 

Dr. Tyng has been twice married. His first wife was the daughter 
of Bishop Griswold, by whom he had four children. His present 
wife was Miss Mitchell, of Philadelphia, who is the mother of five 
children. His oldest son, Kev. Dudley Atkins Tyng, is rector of 
" The Church of the Epiphany " in Philadelphia, probably ranking 
next to " St. George's " in the number of communicants and general 
efficiency. 

Besides the labors involved in the ministrations to such a large 
church, and the oversight of such a Sabbath-school — labors which 



440 STEPHEN H. TYNG. 

we have not attempted to depict, and which, can only be realized by 
experience, Dr. Tyng has written much for the press. He is a volu- 
minous pamphleteer ; he is one of the editors of " The Protestant 
Churchman," and a generous contributor to its columns ; and he 
has published several volumes ; — " The Israel of God ;" " Lectures 
on the Law and the Gospel f " Christ is All ;" " Christian Titles," is- 
sued by the Carters; and "The Rich Kinsman," just published by the 
same house, and republished in England ; " Fellowship with Christ ;" 
a volume on Confirmation, containing Prayers for Sabbath-schools ; 
" Life of Dr. Bedell ;" "Life of E. J. P. Messenger, Missionary to Afri- 
ca ;" and "Recollections of England." He is, besides, the main agent 
in the Foreign Committee of the Board of Missions, a prominent 
member in the Board of Managers of the American Bible Society, 
and one of the most efficient officers of the Pastoral Aid Society. 



CRITICISM. 



Dr. Tyng came to New York, known as a leading member of the 
Low-Church party, to become the spiritual guide of a congregation 
also known as thoroughly Low Church ; and appropriately took an 
early occasion to avow his faith and to propose his plan of ministry. 
He proclaimed his adhesion to the right and the privilege of extem- 
pore prayer ; declaring that he should maintain the , right always, 
and use the privilege whenever he thought best, even to the occa- 
sional and partial dispensing of the prayer-book. 

His views on this subject are sufficiently revealed in the following 
extract from his work entitled " Recollections of England :" 

" Wherever, in England, I met with faithful, pious brethren, I 
found them men of prayer. The prayers on all these occasions 
were uniformly extemporaneous." And he adds: "How destruc- 
tive to the influence of true piety among us, and to the actual in- 
crease of the power of the Gospel, would be the success of their en- 
deavors, who would shut from us the use of extemporaneous prayer ! 
The converted soul must pray : and although our liturgy, for the 
purposes of strictly public worship, for which it is designed, is unri- 



CEITICISM. 441 

vailed, and all that we want, it does not, and cannot, answer the 
purpose of many other occasions, when we need prayers most spe- 
cial and adapted. The attempt to make it the only vehicle of 
united prayers is the inevitable result of a formal spirit, and the 
parent of this spirit in others." 

Thus holding opinions differing so widely from those embraced 
in the " Tracts for the Times," earnest, zealous, bold, and indepen- 
dent in their promulgation, regarding facts rather than forms, the 
spirit of the law rather than the letter, the living body rather than 
the superficial clothes, it is no wonder that he has become so 
mighty a champion of one portion of the Episcopal Church, as to 
be, to some extent at least, obnoxious to the other portion. Ilence 
it is important that allowance should be made for the eulogies of 
friends and the disparagement of foes, by those who found their 
judgments of the man on mere report. Since his " defining of po- 
sition," he has had frequent occasion to endorse it by public acts. 
On the test question, at the trial of Bishop Onderdonk, he was 
found on the side where all expected to find him ; and not only on 
a question of Church government and discipline, but also in teach- 
ing and preaching, he is the same uncompromising foe to the mon- 
archy of forms. 

There is an earnestness in Dr. Tyng's pulpit ministrations which 
testifies that their warmth results from no artificial heat. His ser- 
mons are not, like some, warmed into life by friction between the 
conscience of the speaker and the necessity of his position, both, per- 
haps, hard enough. He does not preach because he has " taken 
orders ;" but he has taken orders that he might preach. He uses a 
form, without being formal ; employs a liturgy in prayer, without be- 
coming liturgical in preaching; wears a surplice without being precise ; 
reads the daily lessons without a tone ; admires the common prayer- 
book without adoring it, tendering his love without his worship. Dr. 
Tyng has withstood the influence of forms, because he possesses the 
spiritual life which spurns formality, and the strong and nervous 
intellect which brooks no hampers. It is with the inner world of 
man as with the outward world of nature. It is the burning coal 
upon which no ashes rests. It is the torrent starting from the liv- 



442 STEPHEN H. TYNG. 

ing spring, which is never icebound. Hence, depending on individ- 
ual and inward growth, ordinary subjects reveal beneath his touch 
manifold relations. Let hirn direct his creative intellect towards 
the most barren subject, and it teems with life and beauty ; as be- 
neath the warm spring sun, myriads of blades of grass and gorgeous 
flowers start forth from the winter-browned fields. 

His mind is under control. Pycroft compares his mind to his 
dog, in its proneness to wander, and says : " There is a way to make 
my dog obey, change his wandering nature, doioji, when I say, 
down, and pass without a glance every thing but the game I choose 
to hunt." Dr. Tyng has well succeeded in that which Pycroft desired. 
And still there is a point of excellence unattained by him. He some- 
times loses sight of the logical order. He does not give over the pur- 
suit of kis subj ect, but " gets on the wrong scent." Still his mind is well 
trained ; it " passes every thing but the game he chooses to hunt." 

Dr. Tyng's style is close, and no objectionable superfluity is coun- 
tenanced ; still there is some luxuriance, but it is the luxuriance of 
a well-trimmed hedge, rather than of a South American jungle. 
His sentences are methodical in their construction, and rounded in 
their completion. In this finish of execution he excels Mr. Beecher, 
with whom he often comes in contrast at public meetings. He has 
more refinement, a higher polish, and better grace, and yet is not as 
forcible, to a certain order of niind, which enjoys the manifold efflo- 
rescence of genius more than the fruits of talent. Beecher is the 
child of nature, Tyng the pride of art. 

Dr. Tyng moves the feelings, but not by a graphic description, 
affecting representation, or thrilling word, but by the forcible repre- 
sentation of truth, illustrated, if at all, by metaphor rather than by 
description. The truth he has in hand he turns round and round, 
inside and out. Instead of bringing the strong lights of illustration 
to bear upon it, he takes it to pieces and passes it around to his 
hearers. 

In his complete, well-formed sentences, and accurate choice of 
words, nay, in the grand style in which he rolls them out, there is 
something truly Ciceronian about Dr. Tyng ; while the speeches of 
Mr. Beecher, with their short sentences, pointed words, and popular 



CRITICISM. 443 

appeals, are Demosthenic. Both have emotion in the pulpit, with- 
out grossly discovering it. Dr. Tyng has his feelings, like his mind, 
under stern control. We have seen him stand for a moment, silent 
and statue-like, a tear starting from his eye, and then go on with a 
voice as clear and rin^ino- as before. His manner is described to a 
great extent by reference to his style. It is not always that the 
style and thought and manner all harmonize as they do in the case 
of Dr. Tyng. There is the same precision and accuracy ; the same 
force and energy; the same boldness and independence in each. 
He pronounces each word by itself, distinctly and heavily, so that 
his voice reminds of the regular beat of a cannon-ball in descending 
a flight of stairs. He is erect, dignified, and rather stately in his 
public appearance, speaks with quite enough fire and fervor, gestures 
earnestly, emphasizes decidedly, has a flashing eye and a clear voice. 
Both in style and manner he frequently reminds one of a man on 
trial. He defends himself, justifies his own acts, not directly, to be 
sure, but impliedly. One feels that he has been receiving anony- 
mous letters, condemning some speech ; or the advice of some kind 
friend, hinting at a better, more prudent, more politic course ; which, 
coming to a man with a path marked out, and a resolve to follow 
it, serve but to irritate and wound. Hp. nevpr dodges responsibility 
or affects modesty by using the pronoun " we," when he means " I." 
In fact, the " I " is slightly prominent throughout his discourses, not 
painfully so, perhaps not excessively so ; but still one is not apt to 
lose sight of the man in the interest of the subject. The truth was 
deeply interesting, but Dr. Tyng presented it. 

But it is on the platform that Dr. Tyng best proclaims discipline 
of mind, power of language, and oratorical talent. There is the 
same precision, the same finish, completeness, force, and logical 
order in his Extempore as in his written addresses. Never at a loss 
for a word, and the right word too, he talks on with the steady flow 
of an unfailing fountain. In fact, he extemporizes with such perfec- 
tion, with such rounding of periods and finish of sentences, that one 
is apt to suspect previous preparation, and ascribe success to a won- 
derful memory ; but those who know any thing about it, know that 
when he pretends to speak extemporaneously he is doing so. There 



444 STEPHEN H. TYNG. 

is no sham about it. Perhaps he never was more eloquent and 
impressive in his life, and never clothed his thoughts in more beauti- 
ful or forcible language, than on the occasion of an Anniversary in 
Broadway Tabernacle, when he was called upon to speak until 
another gentleman, appointed for the occasion, should arrive. He 
spoke ten minutes admirably, fully developed his thought, and would 
have sat down ; but the expected speaker had not come ; the 
audience insisted on his proceeding; and another ten minutes he 
poured out a strain of still more impassioned eloquence. Still there 
was no arrival, cries of " go on," " go on," again prevailed, and he 
started forward on " the third heat," bearing away the hearts of all in 
their admiration of his burning words ; eclipsing in his last effort 
all previous displays, and accomplishing, in that most difficult task 
of "speaking against time," the greatest feat of platform oratory. 
No, this " smell of the lamp " is not the result of special studied 
preparation, but of that preparation which has been going on 
through a lifetime of study ; at the academy, the college, the semi- 
nary, in professional life. 

He has, to be sure, a wonderful memory, which not only brings 
whatever word at his bidding, but contributes anecdote, quotation, 
and fact in abundant and apt manner. As an illustration of its 
power, we may mention, that it is not uncommon for him to read 
the chapter at family prayers without opening the Bible ; and he 
often, at church, at the close of the sermon, gives out the hymn, and 
recites the first verse, while searching for the place. But his mem- 
ory is not used, in extempore, to recall special sentences prepared 
for the occasion. He carries also fewer notes to his pulpit than any 
preacher described in our collection, except Mr. Milburn. We pre- 
sume he has not preached ten written sermons during the last ten 
years ; and even including those written for publication, which be- 
long to the department of authorship, and not of oratory, we ven- 
ture to say, that during a ministry of thirty-five years, in each one 
of which he has probably preached two hundred times, he has not 
written more than five hundred sermons. It is a great pleasure to 
hear him extemporize, for one is never made nervous from fear of fail- 
ure. The hearer feels assured that the right thing will be presented 



CRITICISM. 445 

in the right way; and the only disappointment is in the result 
being greater than expectation. 

Dr. Tyng is indeed a strong man — strong in mind, strong in self- 
control, strong in feeling, strong in will ; and, finally, he is a mau 
who makes strong friends and strong enemies. Indeed this cannot 
be otherwise with a man of decided character. Strength, coupled 
with independence, is destined to opposition. It is difficult often- 
times to decide when this is deserved, and when it is not. More- 
over, Dr. Tyng is impetuous. In the excitement of public speak- 
ing, impelled on by the interest of the subject, the applause of a 
delighted audience, and an ambition to please, he is induced to 
make sweeping assertions. For example, we heard him use these 
words in a public meeting, held in the New York Tabernacle : " I 
believe a Church to be nothing more than a collection of sanctified 
individuals united together for the good of mankind." He may, 
in calm moments, subscribe to this, and he may not. This impul- 
sive character is of itself fruitful of opposition. Moreover, we are 
inclined to think that he likes battling ; and many a man honored 
in the Church has liked battling before him. Luther relished it : 
he would go to Worms, though there were as many devils there 
as tiles on the houses. Paul, too, did not object to making a 
sturdy resistance when principle was concerned; and the great 
Head of the Church himself, told his disciples that He came into 
the world " not to send peace, but a sword." It is doubtful whether 
a man of sterling principle can go through the world without some 
battling. There are " foes without and foes within ;" and he is to 
be congratulated who can get some comfort out of the operation. 

But his prominent fault comes from his energy of will. He is im- 
perious and exacting. He at times forgets politeness in the mastery 
of purpose. As a soldier, he would throw himself into the " imminent 
deadly breach ;" as a member of the English House of Commons, he 
would be in the opposition ; as a politician, he would lead his party ; 
as a statesman, he would be a ruling spirit on the floor of the Sen- 
ate ; as a churchman, he stands where — all know he does. He is 
considered by the High-Church party radical and schismatical ; by 
the Low-Church, the defender of Church purity and principles. He 



446 STEPHEH H. TYNG. 

is a man who, in times of national revolution, would come upon the 
surface of the troubled waters to guide and sway. The people would 
yield to his determined will, shout to his eloquence, and glory in his 
talents. At the close of a life full of work, excitement, contention, 
and responsibility, he may repeat, with peculiar emphasis, the words 
of the great Christian champion of old — " I have fought a good 

fight" 



EVANGELICAL CATHOLICITY. 

Some account has been given of the interesting movement to- 
wards a reunion of the Evangelical and Unitarian Congregational- 
ists. We regard this as one indication of a tendency among Chris- 
tians to multiply points of agreement rather than points of dif- 
ference, towards that fusion of conflicting elements into one or- 
ganized body, the Church, under one Head, the Lord Christ ; to 
which the eye of Christian faith looks hopefully. Among other 
indications of the same tendency we include the movement of the 
Methodists to secure an educated ministry ; and of other denomi- 
nations to appropriate the advantages peculiar to lay and to extem- 
pore preaching ; the movements of the Presbyterians, Reformed 
Dutch, and Congregationalists, towards the adoption of forms of 
worship ; and, finally, the movements of the Episcopalians towards 
a relaxing of their liturgical system. As Dr. Tyng says : " It is a 
significant circumstance, that while our Church is discussing the 
propriety of liturgical relaxation, some of the other Churches are 
expressing their sense of the need of a fixed ritual of worship. 
While we are asking for gates, they are crying out for fences. It 
is a proof of the increasing unity of sentiment and feeling among 
Evangelical Christians. Scripture Protestantism is becoming every 
year more perceptibly and organically one. Love is fusing and 
clarifying an opaque sand-heap into a crystal globe. May the 
blessed Spirit carry on the good work, until we all come into the 
unity of the faith 1" 

Of the Methodist movement in one direction, and that of other 



EVANGELICAL CATHOLICITY. 447 

denominations in the opposite, enough has been said. The Congre- 
gationalist tendency to a liturgy has been noted in the sketch of Dr. 
Storrs. At the head of the Reformed Dutch movement, in the same 
direction, stands Dr. Bethune ; at the head of the German Reformed 
movement stands Dr. Schaff. It is evidenced in the cfTorts for a revi- 
sion of their liturgies by committees of the Synods. In the Church 
of Scotland Dr. Cunningham is strongly committed to the liturgical 
scheme. The " Princeton Review," the organ of the Old School 
Presbyterian Church, in the July number of 1855, publishes an 
article advocating the preparation of a book of Common Prayer 
for the Presbyterian Church, to be optional, and not authoritative in 
its use. And it enumerates among the advantages; 1st. "It would 
be a great assistance to those who are not specially favored with 
the gift of prayer, and thus tend to elevate and improve this im- 
portant part of public worship ;" and, secondly, it would supply a 
form for the thousands of occasions where religious services are es- 
sential and no clergyman is present. And the article adds: 

"It is a very common impression that any attempt to construct a 
Book of Common Prayer would be playing into the hands of the 
Episcopalians. First, because it would imply a concession in favor 
of liturgies ; secondly, because no book which could now be framed 
would be likely to compare favorably with the English Prayer- 
book ; and thirdly, because it would be impossible to give to any 
new book the authority of sacredness, which ages have conferred 
upon that. We cannot believe that any thing which would really 
improve our public service could operate unfavorably to the inter- 
ests of our Church. There would be no concession to Episcopal 
usages, even if Presbyterians should return to the custom of their 
forefathers, and introduce a liturgy into all their churches." 

In the last year has also been published, " Eutaxia, or the Presby- 
terian Liturgies ; by a minister of the Presbyterian Church" — a 
book which has excited a good deal of discussion — in which the 
author seeks to demonstrate, by historical proofs, 1st, That the 
principles of Presbyterianism in nowise conflict with the discretion- 
ary use of written forms ; and secondly, that the practice of Presby- 
terian Churches abundantly warrants the adoption and use of such 



44S STEPHEN H. TYNG. 

forms. Some months ago, also, more than one of the Unitarian 
periodicals, particularly the Christian Inquirer, of New York, con- 
tained able articles on liturgical forms, in favor of the expediency 
of employing them as guides and aids in public religious services. 
We may also add, as another indication, that St. Peter's Church 
(Presbyterian), of Rochester, New York, has the last year adopted 
" The Church Book," as it is called, containing " The Order for Public 
Worship, the Order of Administering Baptism, the Order of publicly 
receiving Baptized Persons, the Order of Administering the Lord's 
Supper, the Marriage Service, the Funeral Service, Morning and 
Evening Prayers for Families, a Psalter, the Nicene and Athanasian 
Creeds, and Psalms and Hymns, with Tunes for Congregational 
Singing." 

But the tendency of Episcopalians in the opposite direction is 
more remarkable ; and of this we present a brief history, without 
presuming on a thorough discussion. 

At the General Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church, 
held in October, 1853, the following memorial was presented : 

To the Bishops of the Protestant Episcopal Church in Council 

Assembled : 
Right Reverexd Fathers : 

The undersigned, presbyters of the Church of which you have 
the oversight, venture to approach your venerable body with an 
expression of sentiment, which their estimate of your office in 
relation to the times does not permit them to withhold. In so 
doing, they have confidence in your readiness to appreciate their 
motives and their aims. The actual posture of our Church with 
reference to the great moral and social necessities of the day, pre- 
sents to the mind of the undersigned a subject of grave and anxious 
thought. Did they suppose that this was confined to themselves, 
they would not feel warranted in submitting it to your attention ; 
but they believe it to be participated in by many of their brethren, 
who may not have seen the expediency of declaring their views, or 
at least a mature season for such a course. 



MEMORIAL OF DR. MUHLENBERG AND OTHERS. 449 

The divided and distracted state of our American Protestant 
Christianity, the new and subtle forms of unbelief adapting them- 
selves with fatal success to the spirit of the age, the consolidated 
forces of Romanism bearing with renewed skill and activity against 
the Protestant faith, and as more or less the consequence of these, 
the utter ignorance of the Gospel among so large a portion of the 
lower classes of our population, making a heathen world in our 
midst, are among the considerations which induce your memorialists 
to present the inquiry whether the period has not arrived for the 
adoption of measures, to meet these exigencies of the times, more 
comprehensive than any yet provided for by our present ecclesiasti- 
cal system: in other words, whether the Protestant Episcopal 
Church, with only her present canonical means and appliances, her 
fixed and invariable modes of public worship, and her traditional 
customs and usages, is competent to the work of preaching and 
dispensing the Gospel to all sorts and conditions of men, and so 
adequate to do the work of the Lord in this land and in this 
age ? This question, your petitioners, for their own part, and in 
consonance with many thoughtful minds among us, believe must be 
answered in the negative. Their memorial proceeds on the assump- 
tion that our Church, confined to the exercise of her present system, 
is not sufficient to the great purposes above mentioned — that a wider 
door must be opened for admission to the Gospel ministry, than that 
through which her candidates for holy orders are now obliged to> 
enter. Besides such candidates among her own members, it is be- 
lieved that men can be found among the other bodies of Christians 
around us, who would gladly receive ordination at your hands, could 
they obtain it, without that entire surrender which would now be 
required of them, of all the liberty in public worship to which they 
have been accustomed — men, who could not bring themselves to 
conform in all particulars to our prescriptions and customs, but yet 
sound in the faith, and who, having the gifts of preachers and 
pastors, would be able ministers of the New Testament. With 
deference it is asked, ought such an accession to your means, in 
executing your high commission, " Go into all the world and 
preach the Gospel to every creature," to be refused, for the sake of 

29 



450 STEPHEN H. TYNG. 

conformity in matters recognized in the preface to the Book of Com- 
mon Prayer as unessentials ? Dare we pray the Lord of the harvest, 
to send forth laborers into the harvest, while we reject all laborers 
but those of one peculiar type? The extension of orders to the 
class of men contemplated (with whatever safeguards, not infringing 
on evangelical freedom, which your wisdom might deem expedient) 
appears to your petitioners to be a subject supremely worthy of 
your deliberations. 

In addition to the prospect of the immediate good which would 
thus be opened, an important step would be taken towards the 
effecting of a Church unity in the Protestant Christendom of our 
land. To become a central bond of union among Christians, who, 
though differing in name, yet hold to one Faith, the one Lord, and 
the one Baptism, and who need only such a bond to be drawn 
together in closer and more primitive fellowship, is here believed 
to be the peculiar province and high privilege of your venerable 
body as a College of Catholic and Apostolic Bishops as such. 

This leads your petitioners to declare the ultimate design of their 
memorial — which is to submit the practicability, under your au- 
spices, of some ecclesiastical system, broader and more comprehen- 
sive than that which you now administer, surrounding and in- 
cluding the Protestant Episcopal Church as it now is, leaving that 
Church untouched, identical with that Church in all its great 
principles, yet providing for as much freedom in opinion, dis- 
cipline, and worship, as is compatible with the essential faith and 
order of the Gospel. To define and act upon such a system, it is 
believed, must sooner or later be the work of an American Catholic 
Episcopate. 

In justice to themselves on this occasion, your memorialists beg 
leave to remark that, although aware that the foregoing views are 
not confined to their own small number, they have no reason to 
suppose that any other parties contemplate a public expression of 
them, like the present. Having therefore undertaken it, they trust 
that they have not laid themselves open to the charge of un- 
warranted intrusion. They find their warrant in the prayer now 
offered .up by all our congregations, il that the comfortable Gospel 



W QUESTIONS FOR CONSIDERATION." 451 

of Christ may be truly preached, truly received, and truly followed, 
in all places, to the breaking down of the kingdom of Sin, Satan, 
and Death." Convinced that, for the attainment of these blessed 
ends, there must be some greater concert of action among Protestant 
Christians than any which yet exists, and believing that with you, 
Right Reverend Fathers, it rests to take the first measures tending 
thereto, your petitioners could not do less than humbly submit their 
memorial to such consideration as in your wisdom you may see fit 
to give it. Praying that it may not be dismissed without reference 
to a Commission, and assuring you, Right Reverend Fathers, of our 
dutiful veneration and esteem, 

We are, most respectfully, 

your brethren and servants in the Gospel of Christ, 
W. A. Muhlenberg, C. F. Cruse, 

Philip Berry, Edwin Harwood, 

G. T. Bedell, Henry Gregory, 

Alex. II. Vinton, M. A. De Wolfe Howe, 

S. H. Turner, S. R. Johnson, 

C. W. Andrews, F. E. Lawrence, 

and others. 
New York, October 14th, 1853. 

This memorial deserves to be noted in several particulars. 1st, 
As indicating a sense of inadequacy in the Protestant Episcopal 
Church to meet the wants of the people. 2d, As suggesting two 
modes of relief, the relaxing of the constraints of a Ritual, and the 
extension of the privileges of ordination. 3d, As not definite in its 
expression, but suggestive. 4th, As signed by both High and Low 
Churchmen. And, lastly, as successful, in that the object of the 
memorialists w T as gained, through its reference to a Commission, by 
an almost unanimous vote ; the four voting in the negative being 
two extreme High Churchmen, and two extreme Low Churchmen. 

The memorial was followed by an elaborative " exposition" from 
Dr. Muhlenberg, of which we shall speak in another place. 

The Commission, to whom was referred the memorial, presented a 
list of questions for consideration. Among which were, " Ought 



4:52 STEPHEN H. TT2vG. 

we or ought we not to hare itinerating evangelists as well a? &?nl-rd 
pastors ]" 8 Could changes "be advantageously made in our litursri- 
cal services ]" " Ought the conditions now imposed on candidates 
who have been licensed or ordained in the Protestant communion* 
to be relaxed 1" &rc, kc. To these, various replies have been re- 
ceived and some published. Among them was one entitled '" A 
Few Thoughts on the Duties, Difficulties, and Relations of the 
Protestant Episcopal Church, by Catholicus.~ in which the leading 
points are: "It is a disastrous error to suppose that the clergy are the 
only religious instructors of mankind." "The efficiency of the 
clergy would be promoted by any thing that shall lead them to 
acquire some knowledge of the practical part of their profession. 
while studying its theory.' 1 B They should be free to exercise any 
gifts which they possess in extemporaneous preaching, and in ex- 
temporaneous prayers." u The Sunday-morning services of the 
Church are much too protracted."' u It is obvious that the franiers- 
of the service expected and intended extempore prayer. This is 
the only hypothesis upon which the service, with its want of variety, 
and its remarkable omissions can be explained. 57 

Another reply more recently published, written by Eev. Edward 
A. Washburn, of St. John's Church, Hartford, presents the whole 
matter in a form adapted to our purpose. He begins by saying 
that i; this memorial is no work of individual fancy or party radi- 
calism; it comes from many, nominally of different sides in our 
communion, and fitters a common conviction ;*' and ■ that our chief 
need at this day is to ascertain what we mean by the Church 
system, its laws of life and processes of growth, in their bearing on 
such a movement." 

The writer proposes "to consider the work of a Church calling 
itself a branch of the Catholic Church of Christ in America ; and to 
compare with this the position of the Protestant Episcopal body, 
and seek to prove thence its want and its duty." 

His first premise is. that u it is the essential principle of the Holy 
Catholic Church that it is built on no fragment of doctrine or in- 
stitution, but embraces in its large fellowship all who are receivers 
of the simple Catholic faith, and baptized into its body," 



REPLY OF REV. EDWARD A. WASHBURN. 453 

u As such a Church, complete in theory, it ought to be, therefore, 
above all bodies of men called Christian, most complete in its ac- 
tion. It should have, here in our America, as throughout all the 
world, an organic growth ; as a communion, not for one class of 
men, not for one section of the country, but for all ; it should be in 
its spirit and methods, as well as in its claims, the Church of Jesus 
Christ in this continent." 

This organic growth, he affirms, "involves a certain changeless unity, 
and again a certain manifoldness of action. As we hold both, and 
know the relation of each to the other, we are severed on one side 
from a false conservatism, and on the other from a false radicalism. 
As such, it has a spiritual principle : it is ' Jesus Christ, the same 
yesterday, to-day, and forever.' And this is the soul of its Catho- 
licity, as the Gospel of redemption to the universal heart. But, as 
such, it has also a body, the organic form of its life — existing in 
certain authoritative, perpetual truths and institutions. Its land- 
marks are, the Holy Sacraments, the two centres of all Christian 
communions ; the Ministry its living order ; the Faith, as embodied 
in the Holy Scriptures, the statute-book of all time ; and in those 
creeds of the Apostles and Xice, which are, above all formularies, 
the voice of the whole Church. 

" But while Catholic Christianity k thus essentially the same in 
any and all ages, its unity of life is put forth according to the rela- 
tions of the time and the social world in which it dwells. We affirm 
that manifoldness of action is necessary to the Church. We do 
not use here the word development ; for while the term is innocent 
and significant, yet in the hands of Newman on one side, and 
Rationalists on the other, it has gotten an ill-omened and suspicious 
sound. Words are nothing, if we can have things. The essential 
unity of the Church, then, we affirm, can never imply uniformity of 
method ; nay, such uniformity is the surest sign that no life exists, 
as a hundred stone pillars may be built the same in stature and 
proportion, but a hundred trees are each specifically unlike." 

He goes on to say : " We sometimes forget, in our zeal for pre^ 
serving intact the apostolic three-fold system, that the system had 
its origin in the wants of the Church of that very time. We talk 



454: STEPHEN H. TYXG. 

of bishop, presbyter, and deacon, as if these orders were cast-iron 
mechanism ; as if, because we keep them, we can therefore have no 
more. It is thus again, as history fully shows, that a cultns, or litur- 
gical worship arises as a natural outgrowth. At first Christian men 
worshipped with no written form, but only the interpreted word, 
and the sacraments with a few very simple formulae orally repeated : 
from these sprang the various liturgies, alike in essential unity of 
ideas and some common expressions, yet all differing in detail ; and 
as such came from the mind and heart of believers, there grew a 
ritual of Alexandria, of Antioch, of Eome, of Gaul, and the rest. 

11 A church creates, of necessity, a liturgy, but that liturgy is not 
inspired, primitive, absolute, or unchangeable ; it may be wise to keep 
it, dangerous to change it ; it may be bound up with the affections 
and devotional wants of men, but it is very useless to rest it on a 
ground so unreasonable. Our only true position can be that such 
a system must have a living growth, and a living adaptation to a 
people. 

" If, then, we have settled these principles, we may at once apply 
them to the work of the Church in America. It is indeed alto- 
gether a new phenomenon in Christendom ; for as there was from 
the first no national Church, like those of England and France, born 
with the dawn, and growing with the growth of civilization, so this 
country has no established Christianity. All sects and systems are 
left to work in their own way. That worship which we hold dear 
is an exotic, transplanted from English soil, but never thoroughly 
grafted into the wild stock of American character. But if any 
Christian faith gain a national power, it must have a national 
growth ; it must so far admit the action of a living principle as to 
give it a proper adaptation to American needs ; and to this end it 
must, in its early stages, amidst a population wholly indifferent to 
the forms of England, or Eome, or any other, fall back as far as 
possible on essentials, and make its methods flexible. We can as 
soon build a York Minster in a Western clearing, as make the mass 
of American society accept a finished Anglican worship. There 
should be, first, an adaptation of the ministry to the people. A set- 
tled parochial clergy must be, of course, the chief reliance ; but 



REPLY OF REV. EDWARD A. WASHBURN. 455 

there should be, besides these, an order fitted by a proper culture to 
minister to the multitude, not trained in the Church system. It is 
wanted directly around us for labor in half-organized parishes, or 
among the ignorant and poor who cannot be now reached. It is 
wanted for missionary work ; and when we say this we do not mean, 
as too many imagine, some little suburban province of church action. 
For a century to come our main labor in this continent is emphati- 
cally of the missionary character ; our country is the valley of the 
West, and the broad fields now opening before us to the Pacific. 
Such a class may be created without detriment to learning or regu- 
lar order ; and to suppose otherwise is as absurd as to say that an 
army is spoiled by the organization of a corps of light infantry. We 
want both a highly educated clergy and a clergy for the people ; and 
instead of lowering the standard, we exalt it by a right division of 
labor. Its influence will be a living one, to carry the Church into 
the heart of society. Thus "Wesley preached, and began a work 
which the Mother Church, in her cold narrowness, would not appre- 
ciate, but hardened her heart against him, and forced thousands, 
who might have been loving children, into separatists. But, next, 
there should be an adaptation of worship to the same necessity. 
The very notion of one rigid ritual for every class, drilled in its use 
from infancy, or utterly unaccustomed to it, is an absurdity. Such 
modifications should be, and may be, consistent with the keeping 
always of the essential features of the liturgy, with soberness and 
good taste ; the self-same service will remain for the trained church- 
man ; but the vast class without the Church, from whom she must 
have her recruits, should see and hear her in her Catholicity. She 
must show her willingness and capacity to meet their wants, to use 
every mode consistent with essential unity : she must make manifest 
her living, active, and generous spirit. 

" We come now to the second topic of our essay. Is the Protes- 
tant Episcopal Church of the United States such a body, and so 
fitted to Christianize this continent ? 

" We answer, that it is so in its theory, but not in its practical 
workings, and we shall here seek to unfold the fact and its causes. 

" Instead of a Church Catholic, it is not to be mistaken that we 



456 STEPHEN H. TTNG. 

are in position a sect. It is true that we are among the most re- 
spectable of Christian bodies in education, refinement, wealth, and 
piety. Our growth has been considerable ; our moderate doctrine, 
free from theological heat; our broad communion, our attractive 
ritual, Protestant, yet without the bareness of New England wor- 
ship; our dignified and sober character, our conservative tone 
amidst the whirl of religious and social reforms, have given us great 
influence. But our growth has been, and is, of a special character, 
mainly by secession from radical bodies, of men affrighted by the 
influx of unchecked opinion or wild piety ; men of conservative feel- 
ings and good taste. This is all well, and, to a certain degree, may 
be said to show the influence of the truths we possess over one-sided 
sectarianism. But in another and much more frequent sense, we 
have won those who care not a rush for the Church, but who find 
in her liturgy and sober ways a comfortable refuge. It is for them 
a pleasant Hotel des Invalides. Our system does not reach the mass 
of the American middle classes. We do not mean, of course, that 
it excludes them altogether, but that a comparatively small portion 
of them enter its communion, Methodist and Baptist take hold of 
such classes, but we do not. Can the fact be denied ? We chal- 
lenge the proofs ; we challenge any to go through the parishes of 
our communion in city and country, and reckon the proportion. 
Where we have become a church for such classes, it is because cer- 
tain new features, the first-fruits of the harvest which we would more 
fully reap, e. g., the free-church system, have been introduced. To 
the vast multitude of the people we are a Church of England, not of 
America ; an exotic, not an indigenous and native Christianity ; a 
church of rigid and foreign ceremonies. But if it even be allowed 
that our influence is equal to that of the sects about us, which we 
by no means grant, the very allowance is the most feeble argument. 
If we be a Catholic Church, we should not be content with this ; we 
should ' do more than others ;' we should meet every class. As it 
is, we stand virtually on the same platform with the Presbyterian, a 
church for the upper ranks ; wealthy, decent, with our peculiar ex- 
clusive distinctions, not Catholic attractions ; a little less rigid than 
they in theology and social habits, a little more so in worship ; in 



REPLY OF REV. EDWARD A. WASHBURN. 457 

fact, held by the world as in a kind of unstable equilibrium between 
Calvinist and Unitarian. There are enough who talk of ' the 
Church ;' but to call it so in any practical sense, as having such a 
position or influence over American character, is simply absurd. 
Even in comparison with Rome, we have far less practical efficiency : 
her system acts with a vigor we cannot have on the poor and half- 
educated ; and men begin to fear that she may be c the Church' of 
America, while they have no fear whatever about us. Here, indeed, 
in the East and Middle States, we do not so fully feel the want, since 
our long establishment, our wealth and social resources, satisfy us ; but 
in the Valley of the West, and the larger part of our vast continent, 
it is a patent fact. It is very easy for our complacent churchmen 
to shut their eyes, and say, * We are going on very fairly as we are : 
we need nothing better.' The signs of the times cannot be mis- 
taken ; the Memorial does not fabricate, but speaks a profound con- 
viction of many of every party. The movements in convention for a 
new order of deacons, the confessed dearth of clergy, the demand 
for special missionary work, are proofs that the need exists and is 
felt. It cannot be laughed down, or frowned down, or put out of 
sight, by any who, like the old Aristotelian, will not look into the 
telescope for fear he may see. 

" What then, we ask, is the cause of the fact ? We shall not fear 
whatever the distaste of any to the statement, to say that the chief 
cause is the uncatholic practical working of our Church. We 
freely acknowledge all other partial and possible causes. True, 
America is a vast country, and Christian work hard and slow ; nor 
can we ' put a girdle round the globe in forty minutes ;' true, then- 
is a spirit of lawless unbelief abroad at this day ; true, there is a 
false prejudice against our Church from the surrounding bodies. 
But with all this, we affirm that the large share of the evil lies with 
ourselves ; and a glance at our history will show the ground of our 
charge. We were a colonial daughter of England when as yet nc 
American nation was born; and that original type has never 
changed ; but while Presbyterian and Puritan have adapted them- 
selves to the. nation, we have been, and are, a stereotype copy of 
England still. Let us not be misconceived in this remark. We 



458 STEPHEN H. TYNG. 

have no ultra- American prejudice against England; with her we 
are bound by ties that can never be broken ; we love her faith and 
communion, and most unfilial were the heart that would not honor 
such a mother ; but we are not the Church of England ; we are the 
Church of Christ in America. Our fault has been that we have 
forgotten this. We have been an English establishment merely ; 
we have repeated her imperfections as well as her excellences, her 
habits, her local characteristics, her parties. Many are content to be 
a high and dry church of very respectable Christians, distinguished 
from the Presbyterian by the absence of extempore prayers, of revi- 
vals, and lamps for evening service ; from Methodists by a sober 
liturgy that regulates the ' Amen,' and the fashion of written dis- 
courses. Or, on the other side, they are a wealthier class of Evan- 
gelical Christians, abominating Tractarianism, and preaching 'justi- 
fication by faith,' but not soiling their skirts by descending to their 
vulgar brethren, who hold the same \ doctrines of grace,' but not 
' our scriptural and venerable liturgy,' our ' chaste and dignified 
worship.' This feeling is embalmed in our practical system. "We 
have a noble clergy of scholars and gentlemen, and we want them ; 
but we have none save of one training ; here and there a Wesley, 
but no class of Wesleys. They are all honorable men at their ser- 
mon manufacture and parochial routine, but all scholarly gospellers. 
We have a diaconate, but it does not deacons' work ; it aims only to 
' purchase to itself a good degree' in a twelvemonth. We want the 
preachers and priests of the people. Nay, it is one of the most 
striking facts in this connection, that little fruit has come of the 
late canon for an order of working deacons ; scarce any will join 
the number. It has been alleged, as proof, by our stiff conserva- 
tives of the extreme right, that they are not wanted ; but to us it 
proves the very opposite, that there is a lethargic feeling prevalent 
which makes void even wise means. Our worship, again, repeats 
the same monotone. We cannot too highly reverence the liturgy 
as a monument of English devotion, free from Roman follies, and a 
bulwark against sectarian license ; but we affirm plainly, that as a 
system for all occasions, and for every congregation, it is far too 
rigid and inflexible. We are fully aware that we risk the censure of 



REPLY OF REY. EDWARD A. WASHBURN". 459 

those who call themselves loyal ; we too are loyal, ' not a whit be- 
hind the chiefest ;' but a true loyalty is not blindness. It were an 
ungracious task, indeed, to dwell on the imperfections of the liturgy ; 
to show, by historic proof, that our morning service, as used on the 
Lord's day, is an ill-adjusted pile of several distinct offices ; to point 
out the unfitness of the calendar for weekly occasions, the meagcr- 
ness of our collection of chants and hymns, and the rest. We 
should prefer to bring forward its rich beauties. As the standard of 
liturgical services, the general norm of practice, it is unequalled ; it 
has, in the phrase of Hooker, ' a sensible excellency, correspondent 
to the majesty of Him whom we worship ;' unity and harmony 
pervade it ; confession, absolution, chant, lesson, and prayer, move 
onward in one swelling chorus ; its collects are the utterance of the 
Christian heart in its devoutest ages ; its seasons of festival and fast 
bear us from mystery to mystery of His Divine Life, who is the 
Type of His Church ; its baptismal and communion offices are wit- 
nesses of Catholic faith and devotion. 

" But we may surely say all this, and yet, without fear of being 
called blasphemers, hold that our system demands some modifica- 
tion. The difficulty lies not so much in the liturgy itself as in our 
too rigid use of it ; it is absolutely imperative in every detail amidst 
all the chano-insr circumstances of ministerial work. We are so far 
from conservative in this, that we have lost its original method ; we 
have not at all the varied hours and varied offices of those who 
framed the liturgy. It was never meant to be the same routine for 
all occasions ; we have made it such, and deadened it by our own 
stiffness. Devotion wearies with the repetition morning and evening, 
not only on the Lord's day, but in every daily prayer and special ser- 
vice, of the same form of ' linked sweetness long drawn out.' But 
the defect is felt far more with the missionary among those who 
have not the trained habit of worship. Imagine St. Paul in cassock 
and surplice haranguing the crowd of Athens or Lystra ; in every 
discourse, at every fresh station, beginning with his ' dearly beloved 
brethren ;' reading Yenite and Te Deum when he found no music ; 
making his own responses ; and so through Litany and Ante-Com- 
munion, service on service, Ossa on Pelion, before he could speak 



460 STEPHEN H. TYNG. 

one hearty word of the kingdom of God. It is no caricature. Not 
a missionary meeting in western wilds, not a handful of countrymen 
untrained in liturgies, but, hungering after truth, can listen without 
these preliminaries. 

" The work of the Church Catholic is committed to us. What 
have we done to accomplish it ? Somewhat, doubtless. But we 
have been mainly occupied with our own peculiar differences, our 
rival interests borrowed from the mother church. Two great parties 
have divided us, and thus far our history has been their conflict. 
Each has had its godly men and its earnest aims, but each has given 
up to party what was meant for the Church. The Evangelical side 
has been battling against the errors of Rome and Oxford : it has 
preached justification by faith, and in many cases it has uttered 
needful rebuke ; but it has been chiefly an opposition, and in its one- 
sidedness has severed the Church from the Gospel. We do not 
here confound the Church with its parties ; we rejoice to believe, 
apart from these, that there is a unity of earnest minds who hold its 
truth. But we would see that unity more manifest. The Church 
asks to-day reality, not theory ; it wants men to come out of these 
old one-sided positions and unite in its principles ; to hold, to teach, 
to toil for the Church, not ignore it ; but the Church in its living 
Catholic meaning, in its broad Catholic activities. Hence we hail 
this memorial as a sign of the times ; as, in the words of a Bishop 
lately, alas ! too soon taken from us, ' the noblest movement of the 
American Church since its formation.' It is not merely as a scheme 
of church extension that we regard it ; it shows that principles are 
at work, that men are feeling a want ; it carries in it aims, and noble 
promises greater than any rubrical changes ; it is a step in the direc- 
tion of practical action." 

After this remarkable statement of the needs, deficiencies, and 
mission of the Protestant Episcopal Church, Mr. Washburn gives it 
as his conclusion that the needed reform is embraced in " the creation 
of a clerical order for extra-parochial and missionary work, and the 
allowance of a greater variety in worship. This may be accomplished 
by an increase of forms of sendee, of more stately harmonies for 
solemn seasons, of simpler modes for simpler uses. Or it maybe 



461 

done by the admission of a power, duly limited, of preaching the 
word and ministering the sacraments with less rigid enforcement of 
the rubric. These modifications will not break down the barriers 
of order. No material changes need be made in the ordinary ser- 
vice of our parishes ; and in every case, while greater freedom is 
allowed for special occasions, we should preserve the essential fea- 
tures of our liturgy, e. g., the creeds, the absolution, the Lord's 
prayer, the necessary formulae of the baptismal and eucharistic 
offices. Psalter, lessons, and collects may be left open for selection. 
Very far are we from those who would surrender our worship for 
random extemporizing ; we want ' a well-regulated liberty.' There 
will be those who doubt the practicability of some plans proposed 
by certain of the Memorialists, as the admission of ministers from 
the Christian bodies around us to orders with but few liturgical 
restrictions. Such a scheme may, indeed, have a wrong as well as 
a right side; yet we can conceive no difficulty in making such 
restrictions, though few, sufficient to preserve the faith and principles 
of the Church. Certainly at present our Episcopate has more the 
aspect of a denominational peculiarity than a Catholic institution ; 
and we shall do well to consider in what practical way we may 
restore its Catholic function." 

The careful reader of the Memorial has not failed to observe that 
its author had in view a more comprehensive purpose than the 
relaxing of forms of service and the creation of a clerical order for 
missionary work. Dr. Muhlenberg, who may be esteemed as at the 
head of this whole movement, is consecrated to a principle which 
underlies all proposed reforms — the principle of Evangelical Catho- 
licity, or the building up a Church out of evangelical denominations, 
which shall have the universality, the concentrated strength, the 
flexibility, the unity, and the historic power of the Roman Catholic 
Church, stripped of its heavy burdens of forms, of errors, and of 
recorded crimes. This idea Dr. Muhlenberg launched on its first 
voyage a number of years ago, in 1836, we think, in a little volume 
entitled " Catholic Union," in which he proposes a Council of Evan- 
gelical Churches — to be called The Council of Peace — to agree upon 
a common creed, a common church government, and a common 



462 STEPHEN H. TYXG. 

order of public worship ; which shall be so general as to be capable 
of adoption by the confederate churches, and yet leave each denomi- 
nation to indulge its peculiar forms or favorite tenets ; the advan- 
tage of the union being unity of action in missionary enterprises, 
expelling of rivalries, freedom of exchange between pulpits, and pro- 
motion of Christian love by nearer contact in Christian work and in 
Christian sympathy. 

A great difficulty in the way of such a union lies in the matter 
of ordination, or what shall constitute the essentials of an ordained 
preacher, Dr. Muhlenberg seeks to obviate this difficulty, by pro- 
posing that the form of ordination for the ministers of the con- 
federated Church should only include those particulars in which all 
denominations are agreed; and that if Episcopalians will meet 
other denominations to that extent, it would be very proper for 
other denominations to consent that the ordination shall come 
from the Episcopal Church ; inasmuch as this ordination is es- 
teemed by all as valid as any, and by Episcopalians more valid than 
some. 

In the promotion of this idea of Union, Dr. Muhlenberg has 
more recently (during two years) edited a periodical entitled " The 
Evangelical Catholic." Indeed he esteems the central idea of this 
movement to be the emancipation of the Protestant Episcopate, so 
that ordination may be conferred on any person or minister of other 
denomination desiring it, who shall bring the essentials of a blame- 
less life, evangelical belief, and ordinary qualifications, without 
requiring conformity to the rubrics and regulations of the Episco- 
pal Church. As Dr. Muhlenberg expresses it : " Whenever, then, a 
Bishop is satisfied that a Christian man of sound mind, asking of 
him the ministerial commission, will so preach and teach (as the 
disciples did) ; will so baptize in the name of the Blessed Trinity, 
and consequently inculcate obedience and love to the three Persons 
and one God, in their several relations to man, and in their essential 
unity ; and further, will instruct those who believe in the will of 
Christ contained in His word, the Bishop is free to give the com- 
mission — nothing may hinder. Canons, customs, or usages, if they 
are in the way, are to be scattered as chaff before the wind. They 



ADVOCATES AND OPPOSERS. 463 

are impertinences coming between the mouth of the Lord and the 
will of His servant." 

We have thus indicated the leading points of the movement, 
without attempting to present the elaborate arguments for and 
against it. It will be observed that it io-nores the standing division 
into "High Church" and "Low Church." It cuts the loaf the 
other way, from the top to bottom. Members of the old parties 
find themselves on either side. " The Episcopal Recorder" of Phila- 
delphia (Low Church) advocates the movement ; " The Protestant 
Churchman" of New York (also Low Church) opposes it ; while 
" The Church Journal" (High Church, or perhaps we should say 
more correctly, broad-church), so far as it has revealed itself, sympa- 
thizes ; and " The Churchman" (High Church) opposes. Yet none 
of these papers (it should be understood) favors the movement to 
the extent of advocating the liberal principle of ordination pro- 
pounded by Dr. Muhlenberg. This movement has also its counter- 
part in England, but of that our limits forbid speech. It excites 
universal interest and discussion through the Protestant Episcopal 
Church. It is not as yet a school or a party. It is simply a 
vitality, a movement, a tendency. Its essence is Christian De- 
mocracy. Its great propulsion is the power of The People. It is a 
progressive movement towards Liberty. At the next Triennial Con- 
vention, held in October, it is likely to assume some organized 
shape, or, at least, concentrate its forces preparatory to an organiza- 
tion. To that time we look with interest. 



JAMES WADDELL ALEXANDER. 

THE OLD SCHOOL PRESBYTERIAN PREACHER. 



"Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile." 



We acknowledge a peculiar hesitation in attempting a sketch 
of Dr. Alexander. It is a serious work to discuss the life and 
character of any man. To present a truth is not so serious ; 
because its isolation from personal and social existence lessens 
the delicacy and responsibility of the task, and the truth wrongly 
apprehended by one is set right by another. The distortion of 
to-day gives place to the accurate portraiture of to-morrow. To 
define a principle is not so serious, for the principle can be 
contemplated till every fibre is outlined, and every phase radi- 
ant. To paint a landscape is not so serious, for its permanence 
affords continued contemplation and consequent accuracy ; winds 
cannot sweep away its identity, and cloud-shadows leave no marring 
footsteps. To fashion a statue is not so serious, for it embodies but 
one sentiment, conceived by the artist, which genius enables him to 
set forth, without failure in the enduring and eloquent language of 
Sculpture. But how difficult, fully to describe a man, the truths 
of whose being are infinite in number and ramified through social 
life ; the principles of whose character are ever changing by growth ; 
the facts of whose experience are so numerous, and the most essen- 
tial so sacredly guarded; who includes such a variety of senti- 
ments, of thoughts, of opinions, of desires, that the bosom-friend has 
read but part ; whose nature the cloud permanently darkens ; or 



CHARACTERISTICS. 465 

the prosperous sunshine warps, or temptation's storm disfigures or 
destroys. 

But the description of certain characters is specially difficult, be- 
cause of the perfections which render description so desirable. A 
character, harmonious, balanced, disciplined, pruned of excrescence, 
is respected and loved, but not so much talked of. Moreover there 
is a sacredness surrounding a true and harmonious character, which 
exalts it above the sphere of every-day discussion, and shields it 
from the ken of curiosity. 

But while completeness of character disheartens one who attempt? 
description, it also inspires in the same proportion. It is felt that 
the task, though serious, is a worthy one. The desire that a larger 
number should know such a character, is a constantly impelling 
power. It does not seem right that a favored few should monopo- 
lize the knowledge of its existence, or one cherished circle receive 
all the advantage of its example ; that humility should limit the 
circle of appreciation, and modesty silence the tongue of praise. 
Yet we would not speak of such a one when on the world's highway, 
surrounded by the rushing strife for gold or glory, but rather when 
no cares of business were harassing, and no wild desire for wealth 
or honor inflaming ; when ambitious thoughts and proud designs 
were banished, and longings for better things were felt ; and when 
we should be inspired to press on in the path of right, by contem- 
plating the example of an upright man. 

Thus would we talk reverentially of this religious teacher. We 
would not discourse of his achievements in eloquence or of his 
contributions to literature, neither would we recount strange circum- 
stances of his life, for its calm surface has scarcely been rippled,, 
though its depths have been at times agitated ; neither would we 
describe his appearance on some great occasions, for on great occa- 
sions he is not present : but we would talk of his gentleness, his 
modesty, his devotion to the cause of truth, his Christian love ; and 
we would read together from his discourses and learn of him by his 
writings. And still, if we were holding such converse, we would 
not eulogize, for we would bear in mind that eulogy is specially dis- 
tasteful to him. Indeed, modesty, genuine Christian modesty, is a 

30 



4:66 JAMES W. ALEXANDER. 

marked characteristic. He does not thirst for the praise of men, 
but rather loathes it ; he does not strive for publicity or prominence, 
but rather shuns it. His highest ambition is to " do the will of his 
Father, and to finish His work." On entering the ministry he seems 
to have banished all thoughts of self-aggrandizement, nay, to have 
forgotten self, and only to have remembered that he was "bought with 
a price," and it was therefore his duty and his privilege to " glorify 
God in his body and in his spirit, which are God's." Such disen- 
thrallment from all worldly ambition, such , forgetfulness of self in 
the love of the truth, such freedom from all desire of distinction, even 
on account of the influence it insures, and the consequent advan- 
tage to the cause of truth — a desire generally deemed laudable — is 
not often seen in this world. We all love it when we see it : we 
prize it the more highly for its rarity. It specially becomes preachers 
of that Gospel first proclaimed by the " meek and lowly one ;" and 
among them will it more frequently be found. 

But this characteristic does not trench upon independence of 
opinion, or make individuality of thought subservient to prevailing 
notions. Dr. Alexander is far from manifesting timidity in declaring 
an opinion which is demanded, or hesitation in defending one which 
is assailed. He is alike removed from the excessive readiness in 
propounding individual sentiments which savors of conceit, or the 
perseverance in their defence which betokens obstinacy. 

Nor does his modesty spring from self-depreciation, which roots 
out all originality and dries up the energies of self-reliance. He is 
conscious of mental strength. And knowing what it is, he recog- 
nizes it and respects it in others. He forms his own opinions, and 
forms them by his own investigation. They are the result of a 
careful scrutiny of facts, and are based upon philosophical principles. 
When thoroughly established and suitably grown, they are sent into 
the open day where the world may see them, without hesitation. 
They are never recalled because of the strength of opposition or 
the well-meant advice of politic friends. Their author only disowns 
them when a clearer reason shall have revealed their fallacy, or a 
deeper philosophy demonstrated their unsoundness. It is very sel- 
dom that a man who loves the truth, and is honest and faithful in 



LITERARY ACQUIREMENTS. 467 

its search, is arrogant or timid in proclaiming opinions, or is 
obstinate or hesitating in defending them. Modesty and decision 
are the two graces that mark the good, great man. Respect is 
^hown, not subserviency ; regard felt, not adoration ; modesty ex- 
hibited not servility. 

Dr. Alexander is not confined in his researches to one class of 
subjects. His mind does not plod round in a beaten track, always 
grinding out the same kind of juice. His range of investigation is 
remarkably extensive and comprehensive. In subjects strictly the- 
ological he is well versed, as becomes a theologian. But in ad- 
dition to this, he is an accurate scholar in other departments. He is 
thoroughly read in ecclesiastical and general history. He has made 
extensive literary acquirements, and has a refined literary taste. He 
is on friendly terms with German writers, as well as with the chosen 
of his native tongue. He has gathered stores of learning and gems of 
thought from most of the departments of the intellectual world. He 
is remarkably familiar with the current literature of the day, keeps a 
watchful eye on the popular magazines, and does not allow political 
or general intelligence to pass unheeded. So extensive and varied 
has been his reading, that few subjects can be introduced upon which 
he does not, in his unobtrusive manner, appear perfectly at home, or 
scarcely an author mentioned about whom he has not formed one of his 
well-grounded opinions. If one meets him in the arena of theology, 
he would pronounce him to be a good theologian ; if in the broad 
field of history, an historian ; and if literature and belles-lettres are 
the prominent theme of discourse, it might be supposed that to them 
he had devoted undue attention. Moreover, he has a keen appreci- 
ation of the beauties of works of art, and exercises thereupon a dis- 
criminating judgment. We speak of this wide comprehension of 
the literary pursuits of Dr. Alexander because of its unusual existence 
among the members of his profession. Ministers are quite enough 
inclined to be theologians, and to be nothing else but theologians. 
There is a tendency in the profession to exclusiveness of pursuit, and 
to confinement of thought. No man doubts that theology is the 
noblest of sciences, and the most exalted of studies, but to be suit- 
ably apprehended it may not be exclusively followed. The man 



468 JAMES W. ALEXANDER. 

who pursues any one study to the exclusion of all others, can hardly 
fail to become a narrow-minded man and a bigot. The religious 
teacher, above all other men, should be generous in his notions, far- 
reaching in his views, wide-embracing in his acquirements. Re- 
ligion has such an intimate relation with the whole man — it so man- 
ifestly involves the perfection of the whole being-, that its exemplars 
and its dispensers should specially attain thorough and complete 
development. They should do this for the good of their congrega- 
tions. Every congregation is made up of individuals whose pursuits, 
tastes, mental powers, associations, embrace the widest varieties. 
The true Christian minister wishes to reach the inner being of each 
one of these, and mould it. He can only do it by meeting each on his 
own ground. This one is gained by close reasoning, that one by an 
appeal to the feelings. The truth is made vivid to this one by an 
illustration from science, to that one by an historical fact, to the 
other by an analogy drawn from the existing events of real life. 
Politics, literature, poetry, can all be made subservient to the en- 
forcement and elucidation of religious truth. The preacher must be 
u all things to all men." 

And the Christian minister should do this for his own sake. He 
needs to divert his thoughts at times from the main object of their 
devotion for relief, else his mind will become morbidly affected. It 
cannot continue vigorous and healthy when it is bent down, year 
after year, to one absorbing task. It is not unlikely that the fresh- 
ness and force of Dr. Alexander's intellect, after years of severe un- 
mitigated application, are so excellently retained in consequence of 
the wide scope of his studies. 

Dr. Alexander's life has been a quiet, pastoral, student life. He 
never appears on platforms, nor in crowds, nor at thronged anniver- 
saries. He is constitutionally timid and retiring, and exquisitely 
delicate in his tastes and refined in his sensibilities. He is the model 
old-school Presbyterian ; devout and reverential towards God ; 
thoroughly orthodox in belief, and thoroughly believing in ortho- 
doxy; wise in counsel and conservative in sentiment; brought up at 
the feet of Gamaliel, and taught according to the perfect manner of 
the law of the fathers ; revering Princeton, and contributing to its 



DR. ALEXANDER AND MR. BEECHER IN CONTRAST. 469 

Review ; a " Hebrew of the Hebrews," " zealous towards God ;" " an 
Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile." 

In most of our sketches we have taken some pains to state indi- 
vidualizing sentiments ; but we do not propose to develop at length 
the opinions of Dr. Alexander. In saying that he is a worthy old- 
school Presbyterian, wo define his position so distinctly that addi- 
tional words might only obscure it, and additional description possi- 
bly awaken controversy. Yet there are some in the community 
upon whom the theological discussions of the last half century have 
been entirely lost, and perhaps in no more graphic or accurate way 
could such be enlightened than by advising them to take the some- 
what extended description of Mr. Beecher's views, sentiments, and 
sympathies, and over against all, which are not adopted by the great 
body of evangelical Christians, erect their opposites, and you have 
the views, sentiments, and sympathies of Dr. James W. Alexander. 
Contrast Mr. Beecher's disrespect for theologies, with Dr. Alexander's 
reverence for the Princeton faith ; Mr. Beecher's loving approach to 
the Deity, with Dr. Alexander's awe ; Mr. Beecher's theory that the 
terms of the New Testament are addressed to the affections through 
the imagination, with Dr. Alexander's conviction that they are ad- 
dressed to the intellect with the precision of philosophical terms, pre- 
senting an harmonious, elaborated, complete, and perfect religious 
system ; Mr. Beecher's presentation of the truth by figures, with Dr. 
Alexander's presentation of the truth by precise propositions ; Mr. 
Beecher's pictures of every-day life with Dr. Alexander's profound 
exegesis ; Mr. Beecher's conversational Extempore, with Dr. Alex- 
ander's finished discourse ; Mr. Beecher's careless grace, with Dr. 
Alexander's cultivated elegance ; Mr. Beecher's daring anti-slavery, 
with Dr. Alexander's considerate conservatism ; Mr. Beecher — the 
child of nature, the easy companion, the platform orator, the people's 
preacher, with Dr. Alexander — the scholar, the elegant conversation- 
ist, the recluse, the old-school preacher ; — thus, at repeated and va- 
rious points, bring these two into contrast, and each is seen with un- 
mistakable distinctness. 

Dr. Alexander has not the rugged strength of Mr. Beecher — nor 
does he awaken the conscience by those thrilling bursts of elo- 



470 JAMES W. ALEXANDER, 

quence in which this orator abounds. Dr. Alexander touches the 
" harp of a thousand strings" with a greater delicacy ; Mr. Beecher 
with a bolder, freer movement; both with uncommon skill. Mr. 
Beecher will bring music out of an instrument that has lain un- 
strung for years ; Dr. Alexander requires a certain preparation of the 
heart and intellect on the part of the hearer. Mr. Beecher's elo- 
quence flashes and startles like an exploding meteor; that of Dr. 
Alexander burns with the planet's calm and healing light. After 
hearing Mr. Beecher, striking and detached sentences are the more 
readily recalled ; one admires the general bearing of a sermon by 
Dr. Alexander. Both preach with great solemnity ; both present 
the truth in its length and breadth, without any trimming to fit pe- 
culiar tastes, or any smoothing for the accommodation of delicate 
sensibilities. Both appeal to the conscience with the directness 
that is always solemn, and sometimes fearful. Dr. Alexander im- 
parts more instruction than Mr. Beecher. The latter strives to 
awaken the mind rather than to feed it. Mr. Beecher would attraet 
the larger circle ; Dr. Alexander the choicer one. Dr. Alexander 
would not be called an orator by the many; Mr. Beecher is not 
called an orator by a few. Both are independent thinkers, bold 
proclaimers of opinions, and unflinching defenders of their views of 
truth. 

Differing thus essentially in style, they differ even more in their 
manner of delivery. Mr. Beecher uses his muscular arm vigorously 
and freely. He abounds in energy, enterprise, and action. Dr. 
Alexander's gestures are not unfrequent, but are considerate and 
proper. He brings his hands together fervently, yet not with a 
ring. He regards the proprieties of the pulpit to perfection. 

Dr. Alexander's writings are characterized by a completeness 
which allows no irregularity, and a finish which leaves no excres- 
cence. With Dr. Tyng there is a fulness of language and rounding 
of sentences which mark his style : Mr. Beecher's sayings come with 
a momentum which startles, with a brilliancy which dazzles, or with 
a strength which subdues : Dr. Cox has repleteness of language, but 
in his style there is a discrepancy, a waywardness, and a luxuri- 
ance ; withal, a force, point, and energy, which amuse, provoke, 



HIS STYLE. 471 

please, and instruct at once, but in such a chaotic way, that one is 
left quite in a puzzle whether to approve or condemn. But with 
Dr. Alexander there is wealth of expression, but wealth prudently 
distributed. He does not employ a redundancy of words in express- 
ing any one idea. The redundancy is rather in ideas. Any and 
every subject opens and widens under his inspiring touch to such an 
extent, that it is difficult to compress ; and yet he does not wander 
from the highway of his main thought, turning into every lot where 
the bars may be left down, as Dr. Cox is so apt to do — who even 
takes down a length of fence to make a lively turn in some pleasant 
meadow, when he should be moving right on to his journey's end. 
Dr. Alexander rarely has digressions, and never episodes. If he 
stops by the way, it is but for a moment to gather some fruit, or 
pluck some flower, which it would have been hard to have passed 
unnoticed. And he never stops for even these, however nourishing 
or beautiful, unless they conduce to a better progress. His principle 
of association is logical, that of Dr. Cox emotional or verbal. Yet 
there is no stateliness of style, but ease ; a play of parts knit to- 
gether ; a liberty under law. It is this elegance, united with grace 
and strength, which distinguishes his style. He indulges but little 
in illustrations, and devotes less attention to adornment by imagery. 
Yet the illustrations and imagery employed are apt and choice. In 
illustrating abstract truth from nature, we apprehend that the minds 
of Dr. Alexander and Mr. Beecher work in opposite directions. The 
former clearly apprehends the truth, and then seeks in nature for its 
illustration : while to the latter Nature is ever, by manifold analo- 
gies, suggesting and illustrating the spiritual truth. 

He pronounces each word fully and clearly; and while com- 
pletely finishing the articulation of the one before commencing 
another, he does not cany distinctness to such an excess as to 
leave each word to shift for itself, unsupported by its neighbor. 
He has variety of inflection and a happy modulation. The upward 
inflection predominates, which imparts a cheerful air. In his tone 
of voice, pronunciation, and modulation, he reminds us somewhat of 
Dr. Orville Dewey. He speaks with much the same deliberation 
and emphasis and variety of intonation. But in this variety there 



472 JAMES W. ALEXANDER. 

is nothing extravagant, overstrained, or unnatural. He manifests a 
warm interest in his subject, which often rises into fervor, not only 
by emphasis and intonation, but also by forcible and frequent ges- 
tures. He manifests vigor in his pulpit — vigor of mind and of body 
— and vigor of heart also. One feels that a strong man is speak- 
ing — one who thinks thoroughly and feels fervently. Though he 
always delivers written discourses, yet there is a naturalness, free- 
dom, and earnestness in his preaching which partakes of Extempore. 
Thus does he combine, to a limited extent, the advantages of both 
forms, the strength and finish of preparation with ike grace and 
directness of Extempore. 

In personal manner, Dr. Alexander is dignified, without arro- 
gance ; polite, without formality ; familiar, without bluntness ; and 
affable, without condescension. His manner, with its freedom from 
oddity or fault, fitly types his symmetrical and complete character. 
He has culture of conversation : his flow of words charms like the 
music of a summer stream. He has unusual refinement of expres- 
sion and finish of pronunciation. He infuses into his sentences a 
rhythm and an harmonious modulation that never weakens their 
force, while it arrays them in the fair adornment of poesy. His 
fertility of thought is exuberant, and words are willing ministers to 
his thoughts. 

Our sketch would be incomplete did we not allude to the devo- 
tion of Dr. Alexander's approaches to the throne of grace. It may 
be said of Dr. Alexander, that " in prayer he steeps the seed of the 
word which with prayer he scatters." Those who hear him have 
felt their thoughts exalted above this world, and inspired with the 
holier breath of Heaven. At the family altar his ministrations are 
specially gifted — so clearly does he apprehend peculiar wants, and 
so beautifully adapt the words. Perhaps in this act of public wor- 
ship, even more than in his preaching, does he manifest the solem- 
nity with which he regards the duties of a Christian minister, and 
the weight of responsibility which he feels as one of those who 
" watch for souls as those who must give account." 



BIOGRAPHY. 473 



BIOGRAPHY. 

Dr. Alexander was bom on the thirteenth of March, 1804, in 
Virginia. He was graduated at Princeton College, 1820. He en- 
tered the Theological Seminary in 1822, and was graduated in 
1825. He preached first in Virginia, as a kind of evangelist, and 
labored during a portion of the time at Lynchburg, through the 
progress of a great revival, when he preached ten times within the 
limit of one week. He afterwards took charge of the First Presby- 
terian Church in Trenton, from whence he went to Princeton Col- 
lege to enter upon the Professorship of Latin and Belles-Lettres. 
He remained there till 1843, when he was called to the Duane- 
street Presbyterian Church, of New York. In 1849 he was ap- 
pointed by the General Assembly to the Professorship of Eccle- 
siastical History in Princeton Theological Semihary, where he re- 
mained two years, during which time his people in New York 
had erected an elegant edifice at the corner of Nineteenth-street 
and Fifth Avenue. He accepted a call to return to his old church 
in 1851, during which year he went to Europe. His church is 
strongly united in him, and is an efficient, generous, and wealthy 
society, coupling ability with readiness in good-doing. The Sab- 
bath audiences are large, and it is very difficult to find a seat which 
can be permanently secured by purchase or rent. The public ser- 
vices are noticeable for being conducted without a choir. One 
man, standing in front of the congregation, assisted by a superior 
organ, leads the excellent congregational singing. 

Dr. Alexander has written much for publication, but for the most 
part anonymously. His articles in the Princeton Review, if col- 
lected, would fill several volumes. He is the author of " Life of 
Dr. Archibald Alexander ;" of " Consolation : in Discourses on Select 
Topics, addressed to the Suffering People of God ;" " The Ameri- 
can Mechanic ;" " Words to a Young Communicant ;" " Family 
Worship ;" " Good, Better, Best ;" and Sabbath-school books and 
anonymous volumes amounting probably to the number of thirty. 



474 JAMES W. ALEXANDEK. 

Of Dr. Alexander's ancestry we may say, that about the year 1*736 
the Alexander brothers emigrated to America from Ireland. They 
were of the Scottish race, their father having removed from Scot- 
land. They were well educated : one of them was a teacher. One 
of the brothers, Archibald Alexander, settled first in Pennsylvania, 
and after two years removed to Virginia. Dr. Archibald Alexander 
thus speaks of him : " The appearance of my grandfather I remem- 
ber very well. He was rather below the common height ; but was 
thick-set, broad-breasted, and strongly built. His face was broad, 
and his eyes large, black, and prominent. The expression of his 
countenance was calm and benignant, and his manner of speaking 
was very kind and affectionate. He raised, a company of men 
called Rangers, and, as their captain, performed a term of duty on 
the Great Kanawha and the Ohio ; he received, in connection with 
other officers, several thousand acres of land in Kentucky. Perhaps 
no man ever left behind him a higher character for uprightness 
and benignity than old Esobell Alexander, as he was called by the 
Scotch people." 

"William, son of the first Archibald Alexander, was an elder in 
the Presbyterian Church, and married Ann Reid, the daughter of a 
wealthy landholder of the same Presbyterian colony. She was a 
retiring and humble, but affectionately pious woman. Dr. Archi- 
bald Alexander, the father of James, was their son. Rev. James 
Waddell of Virginia, Wirt's " Blind Preacher," was the grandfather 
of James. 

Of the descriptions of Dr. Archibald Alexander — of whose noble 
and pure life Dr. James Alexander has written with such attractive 
simplicity, united to such filial piety — we present only such passages 
as shall illustrate at once the characters of both father and son, as 
we apprehend the points of resemblance in the midst of some points 
of difference : 

" Though his tell-tale face generally revealed his feelings, he had 
a great talent of silence. There were some things of which he never 
spoke ; as of his pecuniary affairs, his invitations to important posts, 
his devotional exercises, his success in preaching. Secrets confided 
to him were buried in the grave. 



DR. ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER. 475 

"That he was reserved, is certain; that he was sometimes silent 
and distant, has often been said ; but it ought to be added, that in 
such silence there was no assumption of dignity, and not a vestige 
of sullenness. When he shrunk into himself it was from some great 
burden on his spirits; for in the presence of the very same persons he 
would suddenly come out of his temporary gloom with a spring and 
suddenness as fitful as the moods of infancy. No man had less of 
what may be called moroseness. His powers seem to have attained 
maturity in the morning of his life. 

" Experimental, casuistical, practical, consolatory preaching, may 
be said to have been the field of his strength. In dissecting the 
heart, unravelling long trains of experience, discovering hidden ref- 
uges, holding the mirror up to self-deceiving souls, and flashing rays 
of hope on the lingering and self-righteous, he was equalled by few. 
He gloried in preaching a free Gospel. The longer he lived the 
more wide, cordial, and generous was his offer of Christ to the chief 
of sinners. 

" In the period when he made preaching his great business, his 
labors were everywhere owned of God to the awakening and con- 
version 01 many souls ; and all through his life such tokens were 
granted to him from time to time. Yet it is believed that his work 
was far more remarkable in edifying the body of Christ, simplifying 
and enforcing the statements of doctrine, removing scruples, nour- 
ishing faith, stimulating to holy life, and consoling the tempted and 
distressed. 

" His piety was to a remarkable degree blended with his system 
of truth. In his mind doctrine and experience were inseparable. 
This was consistent with the high place which he always assigned to 
spiritual understanding and to faith. 

" Prudence was a prominent trait in his character. That this did 
not sometimes degenerate into excessive solicitude and caution, we 
will not assert. 

" Hence he passed a long life, almost absolutely free from strife 
with any fellow-creature. If he had enemies, they are unknown to 
us. In all the circle of his acquaintance he was not more truly rev- 
erenced than loved " 



4:76 JAMF.S W. ALEXANDER. 

We liope not to transgress the limits of propriety if we venture to 
repeat what Mr. Kirk once said — of whose beautiful friendship with 
Dr. Alexander we have spoken in the early part of the volume. 

" My love for Dr. Alexander is my earliest and tenderest. He 
was a bright, studious, mischievous boy. I was like him in the last 
quality, but always was aware that he was my superior in the other 
qualities. He is a true-hearted nobleman; and grace has but 
ripened and refined all his natural excellence. He loved play, but 
he loved knowledge about as well. Our youth was much of it 
passed in romance. We dreamed together of life, and revelled to- 
gether in our fancied prospects. The trees around Princeton may 
yet bear the names of Laura and Petrarch, Juliet and Romeo, carved 
by two tender-hearted swains. All our amusements, all our studies, 
were performed and enjoyed together for many years. And the re- 
membrance of that youthful friendship is to me of the brightest. 
We studied chemistry together as amateurs, and once commenced 
a course of lectures in the shed behind his father's kitchen ; but, I 
think it was the very first lecture, when my friend was holding forth 
to the admiring audience (composed of the family), that his brother 
Wilham overturned a phial of sulphuric acid on his hands, clothes, 
and face. That put an end to our efforts for the advance of science 
in that direction. On another occasion we took to the histrionic 
line ; and after much preparation of our parts, our costumes, and 
the general arrangement of the theatre — just as we had fairly com- 
menced the performance, the venerable form of his father was seen 
entering the door. He stood a moment and regarded us with a 
frown, and then drily remarked, c All those who do not belong to 
this house can go home.' The entertainment was closed with great 
abruptness. 

" In college-life we were three — James Alexander, George Butler 
(now of Port Gibson), and myself. Ah ! the value of those early 
and college friendships, the consciousness of loving and being loved ; 
of love growing even stronger and mellower as age advances ; the 
wonder of grace intervening to sanctify and stamp with immortality 
those delightful bonds — these are blessings for which my inmost 
60ul thanks God !" 



GEORGE BARRELL CHEEVER, 



THE CONTROVERSIALIST AND PREACHER. 



As lie reasoned, Felix trembled." 



George B. Cheever was born at Hallowell, Maine, on the seven- 
teenth of April, 1807, being the child of Charlotte Barrell and 
Nathaniel Cheever. He is one of a family of four sons and three 
daughters, of whom only four have arrived at adult years. His 
grandmother, by the father's side, was sister of the Rev. Dr. Aaron 
Bancroft, of "Worcester, Mass., and a woman of strong mind and true 
piety.* His paternal grandfather, Nathaniel Cheever, of Salem, 
Mass., died early, but was noted among his townsmen as a man 
who " feared God and eschewed evil." 

His maternal ancestors were of the Barrell and Sayward family 
of York, Maine, the grandmother being the only daughter of Jona- 
than Sayward. She was eminent for her virtues as a woman and a 
Christian ; and the mother of eleven children, nine of whom were 
successfully reared to adult life. 

His grandfather, Nathaniel Barrell, Esq., was the oldest of twelve 
sons ; and for several years before the American revolution was one 
of the councillors of Governor Wentworth of New Hampshire. 
After embracing Christianity he adopted the religious views of 
Robert Sandiman, which he practically exemplified, and held with 
inflexible tenacity to the close of life, at the advanced age of 
ninety-nine. 

* Life of Nathaniel Cheever. 



478 GEORGE B. CHEEVEK. 

The father of George B. Cheever died, at the early age of forty, 
of pulmonary consumption, in the hopes of the Gospel, at Augusta, 
Georgia, where he had gone in pursuit of health. He had acquired 
an honorable competence for the support and education of his 
family, in the industrious exercise of his profession as printer, editor, 
publisher, and bookseller ; and he had won among his fellow-citizens 
a worthy repute for high integrity, energy, and public spirit. 

The religious character of George B. Cheever was developed at 
an early age. He was trained up " in the nurture and admonition 
of the Lord." From childhood he was seriously disposed. Watch- 
fully nurtured by his pious mother, his Christian life seems to have 
commenced almost with the first unfoldings of his spiritual nature. 
At an early age was also engendered a reverence for the office of 
the Preacher, and an apprehension of the responsibility of the reli- 
gious Teacher. Yet he did not unite with any church till after 
college life, and not until theological studies were commenced at 
Andover, about which time he decided to enter the ministry. He 
entered Andover, partly to gratify his mother, and partly to fulfil 
what he himself esteemed a complete course of study. 

He was graduated at Bowdoin College, Brunswick, Maine, Sep- 
tember, 1825, was licensed to preach in 1830, and was first settled 
as a pastor over the Howard-street church of Salem, Mass. 

Dr. Cheever's life is a life of eras. It cannot be told in regular 
narrative; but must be presented in a series of striking events. 
Like Vesuvius, it sends up its circling wreath of smoke quietly, day 
after day, and year after year, an evidence of inward fire ; and then 
suddenly it bursts forth, so that the heavens are illuminated, and 
the wide encircling country looks earnestly upon it. 

The first eruption poured hot lava on " Deacon Giles's Distillery," 
and buried it. Dr. Cheever was then a quiet pastor in the peace- 
ful town of Salem. It happened that he was invited to give an 
oration on the Fourth of July, and in accordance with a character- 
istic, of which we shall speak anon, he discussed, in the progress of 
the oration, the somewhat remarkable topic of the inadequacy of 
the Unitarian faith to produce the highest excellence in literature. 
This proposition was argued from the nature of the case, and from 



deacon Giles's distillery. 479 

accumulated illustrations. It was addressed to an audience, of 
whom the majority were of the criticised faith, gathered from a 
region of country which prides itself on its superior culture. It is 
not strange that it produced excitement ; that it was not only de- 
nounced as false in logic, but as offensive in statement ; as, indeed, 
an attack upon a dominant denomination, unwarranted by the posi- 
tion of the speaker, by the character of the occasion, and by the 
facts of the case. The fiercest criticism was excited. Private cir- 
cles arraigned and condemned ; newspapers discussed ; and Rev. 
Mr. Upham, a Unitarian clergyman, challenged to a newspaper 
controversy, and challenged in such a way that " The Salem Reg- 
ister" was compelled to publish a series of articles from Mr. Cheever, 
stoutly defending the original position, and pouring out more of 
the burning lava. All this put the Unitarian denomination in a 
sensitive state with respect to Mr. Cheever, and, as will be seen, 
partly accounts for the excitement produced by the publication of 
" Deacon Giles's Distillery," for which Dr. Cheever was tried, on 
the charge of libel, condemned and imprisoned in the county jail 
for thirty days, during the month of December, 1835. The two 
sharp points of this " dream" were, that Deacon Giles " had a little 
counting-room in one corner of the distillery where he sold Bibles," 
and that on the Sabbath " he went to church and heard his minis- 
ter say that God could pardon sin without an atonement, that the 
words hell and devils were mere figures of speech, and that all men 
would certainly be saved." It happened, by one of those curious 
coincidences for which dreams are notorious, that in that region of 
country there dwelt a man whose name was not Deacon Giles, but 
Deacon (on the whole, we omit it), who worked a distil- 
lery, in one corner of which he had a little counting-room where 
he sold Bibles, and who, unfortunately, did belong to a Congrega- 
tional church of the Unitarian faith. Deacon took to him- 
self this temperance dream, and, feeling aggrieved, applied to the 
courts for redress. The trial was long, and, on the appeal of the 
dreamer, was renewed in a higher court, upon which our fiery 
mountain delivered his own defence, and improved the opportunity 
to heap on more lava, not only by restating and insisting on the main 



4:80 GEOEGE B. CHEEVEE. 

points of the allegory, but by energetically justifying it^ on the 
ground that the monstrous absurdity of keeping a Bible-house and 
a distillery in the same building, exposed the perpetrator thereof 
to the inevitable ridicule and reprobation of the community. The 
defence, neither in spirit nor tone, was calculated to conciliate an- 
tagonists or mitigate judgment. The quiet pastor became a tem- 
perance martyr ; the preacher, dreaming, won immortal fame ; and 
the deacon, dreamed about, immortal notoriety. 

But this excitement subsided like all excitements. The Salem 
pastor was loosed from prison, and soon went to Europe, in 1836. 
where he spent two years and six months. Soon after his return, 
he was installed over the Allen-street (Presbyterian) church of 
New York. 

During this time the country has somewhat forgotten its Vesu- 
vius. But now comes another eruption ; not, as before, of burning- 
stones and lava, but of fructifying, beautiful streams of crystal 
imagery and radiant illustration and glowing pathos. " Lectures 
on John Bunyan" are given every Sunday evening, and retired 
" Allen-street church" cannot contain the throng which comes to 
hear. The chosen of the city concentrate there. The occupants 
of Bedford and of Salem jails are heroes together. But this ex- 
citement dies away like its predecessor ; only now Vesuvius is re- 
garded as an established fact, from which eruptions are to be 
expected, and to be looked for, perhaps, not without apprehension. 

In 1841, the discussion of the subject of Capital Punishment 
was waged with zeal through the newspapers of New York, and 
enlisted the attention of the public. Without describing prelimi- 
naries, we only state that John L. O'Sullivan and Dr. Cheever 
found themselves facing each other on the platform of " the Taber- 
nacle," for several evenings, before an audience of three thousand 
people, as champions of the respective parties on the leading ques- 
tion of the day. We mean no disrespect to the cause of the aboli- 
tion of capital punishment, which enlists the support of some of 
the best men of the age, nor to Mr. O'Sullivan, for whose accom- 
plishments and ability the esteem is universal, when we say (what 
was generally conceded at the time), that our Vesuvius was " too 



HIS SEEMOXS. 481 

much for liim." He had great faith in a great cause, but he had 
not the faith nor the power sufficient to " remove mountains." 

After a while this excitement subsided, and then came the ques- 
tion of the Bible in the Public Schools. The Catholics demanded 
that the reading of the Bible should not be obligatory in the public 
schools, where both Protestant and Catholic children were collected. 
Dr. Cheever thundered again, and became the champion of Protes- 
tantism, and the scourge of Bishop Hughes and the Catholics. 

Finally, the Fugitive Slave Law was passed, and stream on stream 
of lava has been poured with scathing effect on that ever since. 

Besides these, there have been several minor eruptions, which 
would have been very noticeable in ordinary volcanoes ; such as the 
denunciations of the running of Sunday trains by a prominent Kail- 
road Company, of Judge Kane for the imprisonment of Williamson, 
<kc, &c. But of these our limits forbid us to speak. The fire is 
there to-day. Occasion may let it out at any time. 

Dr. Cheever's sermons are like his life, replete with eras. They 
break out with startling illustrations or reverberating truths, which 
absorb attention, or kindle admiration, or strike upon the conscience 
with an overpowering beat. If we may be allowed to illustrate from 
Pyrotechnics, we should compare the style of Dr. Cox to the multi- 
form, fanciful, lawless, dazzling, abounding emanations from a re- 
volving wheel ; the style of Dr. Tyng to the rocket, one steadily, 
swiftly-mounting, brilliantly-defined, glowing rush of light, abruptly 
closing at the climax ; and the style of Dr. Cheever to the Roman- 
candle, an ordinary jet of flame, not specially brilliant or intense ; 
but ever and anon there is a pause, a crouch, a gathering of force, a 
burst — and far up towards the heavens shoots the ball of bright, 
pure fire. These balls of fire are sometimes vivid illustration, some- 
times a word of glowing significance, sometimes a denunciation of 
unsparing severity. 

Dr. Cheever's convictions are intense, and his conscientiousness 
predominant, and it never occurs to him to refrain from the expres- 
sion of what he believes. 

He has a remarkable combination of fancy with logic. He suc- 
ceeds equally well in allegory and in argumentation. His keen 

31 



4:82 GEORGE B. CHEEVER. 

analytic mind would have placed Mm at the head of the New York 
bar, while his lectures on Bunyan, which best exemplify his culti- 
vated imagination and experimental religion, are unapproachable. 
He uses legal terminology, and quotes poetry with equal affluence 
and accuracy. 

Dr. Cheever deals in " the terrors of the law. 7 ' He has a great 
fondness for the old prophets. He delights in the denunciations of 
Haggai and Jeremiah. He inclines to the supernatural and the 
terrific, like Jonathan Edwards. In the discussion of the subject of 
Capital Punishment, he planted himself on the Old Testament, from 
which no power could dislodge him. He has an absorbing sense of 
justice. His compassion flows out towards the oppressed rather 
than towards the guilty. 

Dr. Cheever is remarkable for the intensity with which he pur- 
sues a subject. The amount of argument with which he demolishes 
the positions he assails, is beyond precedent. He brings every thing 
to bear. For the time being he is absorbed in the one question. 
Hence his preaching will be for weeks of one prevailing type. He 
thinks and dreams and preaches and prays the one subject which 
fills his horizon at the time ; and one may be sure that on the topic 
of the Bible in the Common Schools, on Sunday railroad fcraveDing, 
on Capital Punishment, or the Fugitive Slave Law, his people are 
most thoroughly indoctrinated. And this leads us to speak of the 
prominent criticism which he excites, namely, the uneven merit of 
his sermons. If we should take the two extremes, we would say 
that for range of excellence he was unequalled in America, unless by 
Dr. Bacon. These two men can probably succeed in preaching ti e 
poorest sermons of any preachers of equal capacity in the country. 
u Parturiunt montes, nascitur ridiculus mus" must sometimes be sj : ;'. 
of our Vesuvius. And the reason is the same with Dr. Cheery: a 
with Dr. Bacon. They devote to the Newspaper, to the Periodical, 
to the Review, to the Quarterly, to the volume, the mental energies 
and research and interest which, if consecrated to the pulpit, would 
always insure good sermons. And it is well that they do. Their 
influence is multiplied a hundred fold. 

These two divines resemble each other in other respects. They 



JOSEPn P. THOMPSON. 483 

both have the same analytic and logical characteristics of mind, 
yet so far diverse, that while Dr. Cheever would have excelled at 
the bar, Dr. Bacon is by nature a statesman. They are also alike, 
as being considered champions of New England principles, New 
England government, and New England theology. 

In this connection it is suitable that we express a regret that cir- 
cumstances have prevented the preparation of a sketch of Rev. 
Joseph P. Thompson, who, as the preacher at the " Tabernacle," 
the church of the strangers, and as the principal editor of the " In- 
dependent," is, in some respects, esteemed as specially a representa- 
tive man of the Congregationalists, especially of what some style 
the " Progressive Congregationalists." Mr. Thompson is remarkable 
for the vitality and elasticity of his mind, and for the care and good 
nature with which he accomplishes the greatest variety and amount 
of work; which work, of whatever character, is executed with a 
remarkable uniformity of excellence, and that excellence of a high 
order. We know of no one who so invariably escapes failure or 
even mediocrity. His sermons are always good, his editorials always 
to the purpose, his lectures always interesting, his extempore speeches 
always pointed, his conversation always entertaining. The power 
of his mind for rapid and successful execution is enviable, and pecu- 
liarly fits him for accomplishing the double duties of the preacher 
and the editor. 

Dr. Cheever differs from Dr. Bacon in his attacks on the Ritualists. 
Dr. Bacon aims his shot mostly against the doctrine of Apostolical 
Succession, and the regard for rubrics and liturgies. He irritates 
and nettles with sharp-pointed ridicule. He feels towards the Epis- 
copalians as Dr. Cox does towards the Quakers. But Dr. Cheever 
is not so opposed to Episcopalians as he is to all Ritualists. Against 
the Romanists, Bishop Hughes, and the Pope, he fires the heaviest 
broadsides, loading his guns not only with huge round-ball, but 
with grape, cannister, chain-shot, old iron, any thing and every 
thing in the way of metal that his stores of amunition furnish. We 
once heard a distinguished editor, whose widely-circulated journal 
has published more, either of praise or severe criticism, concerning 
Dr. Cheever than concerning any other preacher, say in conversa- 



484 GEOKGE B. CHEEYEE. 

tion: "I went to hear Dr. Cheever yesterday in his own church.'" 
" How did you like him ?" " "Well, well (with characteristic intona- 
tion), malignant, but good," This is the impression he makes upon 
those who do not agree in sentiment with him. There is such on- 
rolling, crushing, unsparing, Juggernautic logic and denunciation, 
such merciless beheading of the arguments of opponents, with a 
swoop of the Damascus blade, that one inevitably exclaims, " ma- 
lignant, but good" 

Dr. Cheever is remarkable not only for the momentum of his 
logic, but for the extent to which he drives it, beyond, far beyond, 
the point at which a conservative mind, accustomed to look at all 
sides, and allow full force to balancing considerations, plants itself. 
Dr. Cheever's mind is logical, but not philosophical ; and his logic, 
usually faultless and conclusive, is sometimes careless. As a notable, 
though infrequent example, we once heard him preach from the text, 
"Paul dwelt two whole years in his own hired house," and say, 
" From this text we see, in the first place, that Paul was not an 
Anti-renter;" the force of which logic we leave the reader to 
analyze. 

The fundamental trait of Dr. Cheever's character, which is the 
key to his preaching, is his sense of Right. He detests compro- 
mises ; he abhors oppression ; he magnifies justice ; he contends 
with all systems which bind, or enslave, or deteriorate, whether of 
governments, or forms, or laws, or institutions. He does not regard 
expediency, or consult consequences. Fear is a feeling utterly un- 
known to him. He becomes fired with indignation against all Aus - 
trias and Judge Jeffries. His fullest sympathies go forth towards 
the oppressed Bunyans, or the pilloried Baxters, or the exiled 
Kossuths, or the imprisoned Williamsons. His manner partakes of 
his character. He dwells with intensest emphasis on certain words, 
so as almost to press the life out of them. His hearers will recall 
the particular stretch of intonation with which he says, "It is a- 
bom-i-na-ble, ho-r-r-i-ble in the ex-tr-e-me." Yet he is not rash, 
headstrong, or reckless, but quiet, unconcerned, straightforward, 
guileless. Hence he has no worldly prudence, no management, 
and little sense of the adaptations of time and place. This was 



AS A WEITER. 485 

illustrated in the Fourth of July Oration, described above. He has a 
simplicity, and frankness, and humor, like Luther, which makes 
him delightful in conversation. And he is not to be entangled 
by sophistry, because he is always truthful. Such is Dr. Cheever 
— volcanic, controversial, conscientious, strong in directness of 
statement, in earnestness of conviction, and in clearness of ap- 
prehension. 

We add a review of his principal works, and criticism of his 
style.* 

Dr. Cheever has gained an enviable position in American litera- 
ture. He is not a simple elevation in a mountain chain, nor a 
single tree-crowned hill, rising into a sunny sky ; but a bold peak 
dwelling apart in its own shadow, hiding in its sides oracle-caves 
and echoing back the thunder and the storm. 

In allegory he surpasses all our writers. It is as easy for him to 
speak in metaphors, as it was for Watts to rhyme ; indeed, we some- 
times wonder if, like that English painter who thought of men and 
women only as " figures" for his landscapes, he does not regard all 
the people he meets as merely symbols — the objectives of his mental 
states. Still, there is a wide difference between the two. The 
painter merged humanity in art; Dr. Cheever makes his word- 
pictures minister to humanity. His books, as well as his sermons, 
are essentially the coin of the intellect, and not of the heart. If 
any thing could move him to wannth of feeling and expression, 
it would be Bunyan's Allegory. In 1843, he issued his "Lec- 
tures on the Pilgrim's Progress, and on the Life and Times of John 
Bunyan." He took to it as naturally as a lark takes to the air, and, 
upborne on the wings of its author's inspiration, rose in rapturous 
circles, only less high and free than his whose prison-born song 
awoke the morning. 

A less intense and fervid nature than Bunyan's never could have 
had the experience necessary to the production of his immortal 
Dream. Cheever might, while 



* For this criticism we are indebted to " The Independent's" contributor, 
" Dean." 



486 GEOKGE B. CHEEVEE. 

" Writing of the way. 
And race of saints in this our gospel-day, 
Fall suddenly into an allegory 
Ahout their journey, and the way to glory," 

and give us a book full of logic and truth, and of manful getting 
over the difficulties in the road to the heavenly land. There would 
be in it the " City of Destruction," and " Evangelist," and " Mr. 
Worldly Wiseman," and "Mr. Legality," and the "Wicket Gate," and 
the " Interpreter's House," fuller perhaps than Bunyan's, and the 
foul fiend " Apollyon," and " Vanity Fair," and " Ignorance," and the 
"River of Death," and the "Celestial City;" but, although his soul 
glows at every experience of "Christian's," we doubt whether he would 
conceive of the " Slough of Despond" and the " Palace Beautiful," 
in which " the Pilgrim they laid in a large upper chamber, whose 
window opened towards the sunrising ; the name of the chamber 
was Peace, where he slept till break of day, and then he awoke and 
sang," and of the " Valleys of Humiliation" and the " Shadow of 
Death," and of " Giant Despair," and the " Delectable Mountains," 
and the "Land of Beulah," "where the Shining Ones commonly 
walked," and the tender, loving " Hopeful," who sustained " Chris- 
tian" in the terrors of the River. 

" Lectures on the Pilgrim's Progress," has an unpleasant sound 
at first. We are averse to comments upon world-books. We think 
we would as lief see the Venus de' Medici dressed in French silks 
and laces, or the Parthenon turned into a modern hotel, as to see a 
digested, explained Pilgrim's Progress. But when we take up 
Dr. Cheever's rendering, our prejudices disappear. It is itself becom- 
ing a world-book — -widely popular as it is in our own country, and 
having been translated into several foreign languages. As one who 
would not dare try his voice unaided, is so strengthened when upon 
a harp a master strikes the preluding chords and plays the air 
with a sustaining harmony, that he sings in perfect time and tune, 
and even improvises brilliant variations which were not in the 
composer's dream, linking in the remembrance of every hearer, the 
music and the singer ; so Dr. Cheever, supported by Bunyan's genius, 
and catching its glow, has given us a book in perfect unison with 



LECTURES ON BUNYAN. 487 

the old, and associated his name forever with the Baptist Preacher 
of Bedford. 

Out of the numberless extracts we might make as illustrative of 
what we have said, we select the following from the Lectures on the 
Life and Times of Bunyan. 

" If, in his time, great qualities and great capacities of virtue ex- 
isted, there were great flames to try them ; sharp tools and terrible 
to cut and polish the hidden jewels of the Saviour. Into this age 
Bunyan was thrown ; a great pearl sunk in deep and troubled 
waters, out of which God's Spirit would in time draw it, and place 
it in a setting where its glorious lustre should attract the admiration 
of the world. 

"Bunyan never heard of Thomas Aquinas, it is true, and he 
scarcely knew the philosophical meaning of the word logic any 
more than a breathing child, whose pulse beats freely, knows the 
place of its heart or the movement of its lungs ; but Bunyan wrote 
the Pilgrim's Progress for all that ; which, indeed, is itself the sweet 
logic of celestial love." 

"You follow with intense interest the movements of Bunyan's 
soul. You seem to see a lonely bark driving across the ocean in a 
hurricane. By the flashes of the lightning you can just discern her 
through the darkness, plunging and laboring fearfully in the mid- 
night tempest, and you think that all is lost ; but there again you 
behold her in the quiet sunshine ; or the moon and the stars look 
down upon her, as the wind breathes softly ; or in a fresh and favor- 
able gale she flies across the flying waters. Now it is clouds, and 
rain, and hail, and rattling thunder, storms coming down as sudden, 
almost, as the lightning ; and now again her white sails glitter in 
heaven's light like an albatross in the spotless horizon. The last 
glimpse you catch of her, she is gloriously entering the harbor, the 
haven of eternal rest ; yea, you see her like a star that in the morn- 
ing of eternity dies into the light of heaven." 

What in the English language is finer than this description of 
Bunyan's evening in the prison. 

" Now let us enter his little cell. He is sitting at his table to 
finish by sunlight the day's work, for the livelihood of his dear fam- 



488 GEORGE B. CHEEYEE. 

ily, which they have prepared for hirn. On a little stool, his poor 
blind child sits by him, and with that expression of cheerful resigna 
tion with which God seals the countenance when He takes away the 
sight, the daughter turns her face up to her father as if she could 
see the affectionate expression with which he looks upon her and 
prattles to her. On the table and in the grated window there are 
three books, the Bible, the Concordance, and Bunyan's precious old 
copy of the Book of Martyrs. And now the day is waning, and his 
dear blind child must go home with the laces he has finished, to her 
mother. And now Bunyan opens his Bible and reads aloud a portion 
of Scripture to his little one, and then encircling her in his arms and 
clasping her small hands in his, he kneels down on the cold stone 
floor, and pours out his soul in prayer to God for the salvation of 
those so inexpressibly dear to him, and for whom he has been all 
day working. This done, with a parting kiss he dismisses her to her 
mother by the rough hands of the jailer. 

" And now it is evening. A rude lamp glimmers darkly on the 
table, the tagged laces are laid aside, and Bunyan, alone, is busy 
with his Bible, the Concordance, and his pen, ink, and paper. He 
writes as though joy did make him write. His pale, worn counte- 
nance is lighted with a fire, as if reflected from the radiant jasper 
walls of the Celestial City. He writes, and smiles, and clasps his 
hands, and looks upward, and blesses God for his goodness, and 
then again turns to his writing, and then again becomes so entranced 
with a passage of Scripture, the glory of which the Holy Spirit lets 
in upon his soul, that he is forced, as it were, to lay aside all his la- 
bors, and give himself to the sweet work of his closing evening's de- 
votions. The last you see of him for the night, he is alone, kneeling 
on the floor of his prison ; he is alone, with God." 

In after time, when Dr. Cheever's name, like the minister's of Bed- 
ford, shall have become a memory, how many will read his book 
with tearful eyes, and say, as they lay it down, " Ah ! that was a 
great soul, and worthy to walk in John Bunyan's company !" 

His "Voices of Nature " was published in 1852. In his preface 
he says, " By material objects, or rather by suspension at one end 
from such objects, analogies are bridges to spiritual truths ; by 



489 

things they swing the mind forward to thoughts and ideas, and 
sometimes to discoveries high above the point of starting." This is 
what he aims to do, to give to every natural sight and sound a 
spiritual meaning. He looks at Nature with a philosopher's, and 
not with a lover's eye ; she awakens in him thoughts rather than 
emotions, and it is always intellectually that he portrays her. His 
calm, reflective tendencies are seen in the selections at the head of 
the chapters, most of them being from Coleridge, Wordsworth, John 
Foster, and our own poet, Dana. Always clear and unimpassioned, 
he sees and hears and describes, never falling through excess of feel- 
ing into confusion of figure or redundancy of expression. He lacks 
receptivity. He never becomes absorbed in what he is describing ; 
but is always himself, deducing principles from facts. We read 
what he says of the seasons, and we admit the truth of his pictures, 
and receive into our minds the lessons he draws from them ; but we 
have not heard the patter of April showers — nor found violets under 
the hedges — nor listened to the sweet whispers of the wind among 
the young leaves — nor inhaled the breath of roses — nor lain all day 
on grassy banks, lulled by bird-note and water-fall — nor gloried in, 
the purple and gold of September skies — nor been thrilled with the 
waning loveliness of the Indian Summer — nor wept at the melan- 
choly moan of November winds — nor seen the snow-wreaths white 
about our door — and so, been led " through Nature up to Nature's 
God !" 

We receive vivid impressions from contrast. In order to make 
our meaning clearer, let us quote first from Cheever's " Voices of the 
Autumn," and then from the " Mid-October Days" of Henry Ward 
Beecher, who is his opposite in this regard, being for the time a part 
of what he describes, as are also his readers : 

" The woods, indeed, are splendid, when they have been redden- 
ing in the October sun. A beautiful sight it is, for a little time ; but 
sweet Nature almost plays the harlequin when she puts her long- 
cherished, lovely foliage under the finishing touch of the Frost. It 
is only because the sight is so transitory that it is so splendid and 
attractive, for it would not continue to please, if it lasted. 

" And here we remark the exercise of Divine Wisdom and Good- 



490 GEORGE B. CHEEVEE. 

ness in the permanent color which He has chosen for the array of 
nature, to suit the organization of our mortal frame. What a differ- 
ence there would have been in our moral and intellectual character 
if instead of green being the habitual color of nature, the landscape 
had been dressed every day, and all the year round, all the -warm 
months, in the gay variety of the woods in autumn !" 

" When the sacred writer says, Her leaf shall be green even in 
drought, he means always green, through all the seasons, ever in 
the same grateful, refreshing, simple, and modest coloring. And 
this is one of the first points that may be noted in the character of a 
righteous man, that it is made of what are called fast colors. There 
is the hue of principle, and it does not change. There is neither 
glare, nor glitter, nor intrusive show, but a simple, quiet green all 
the year round. It is an evergreen that is thus presented as the 
picture of a righteous man." — Voices of Nature. 

" I stand alone upon the peaceful summit of this hill, and turn in 
every direction. The east is all a-glow ; the blue north flushes all 
her hills with radiance ; the west stands in burnished armor ; the 
southern hills buckle the zone of the horizon together with emeralds 
and rubies, such as were never set in the fabled girdle of the gods ! 
Of gazing, there cannot be enough. The hunger of the eye grows 
by feeding. 

" Only the brotherhood of evergreens — the pine, the cedar, the 
spruce, and the hemlock — refuse to join this universal revel. They 
wear their sober green straight through autumn and winter, as if 
they were set to keep open the path of the summer through the 
whole year, and girdle all seasons together with a clasp of endless 
green. But in vain do they give solemn examples to the merry 
leaves which frolic with every breeze that runs sweet riot in the 
glowing shades. Gay leaves will not be counselled, but will die 
bright and laughing. But both together — the transfigured leaves 
of deciduous trees and the calm unchangeableness of evergreens — 
how more beautiful are they than either alone ! The solemn pine 
brings color to the cheek of the beeches, and the scarlet and golden 
maples rest gracefully upon the dark foliage of the million-fingered 
pine. 



"voices of nature 1 ' and "star papers." 491 

tt Before October we sought and found colors in single tones, in 
flowers, in iris-winking dewdrops, in westward-trooping clouds. But 
when the year, having wrought and finished her solid structures, 
unbends and consecrates the glad October month to fancy, then all 
hues that were before scattered in lurking flowers, in clouds, upon 
plumed birds, and burnished insects, are let loose like a flood, and 
poured abroad in the wild magnificence of Divine bounty. The 
earth lifts up its head, crowned as no monarch was ever crowned, 
and the seasons go forth towards winter, chanting to God a hymn 
of praise that may fitly carry with it the hearts of all men, and 
bring forth in kindred joy, the sympathetic spirits of the dead." — 
Stay- Papers. 

Cheever's " Voices of Nature" is a portfolio of drawings in India 
ink, geometrically correct in outline, and clear in light and shade, 
but cold and lifeless as an herbarium, and therefore expressionless 
too, but for the written " morals" beneath the pictures. The rural 
letters in Henry Ward Beecher's " Star Papers" are a series of paint- 
ings in oil, all life, and glow, and motion — where the clouds drift, 
and the winds blow, and the trees sway to their anthems, and pur- 
ple mountains kiss the sky, and green valleys sleep tranquil at their 
feet, and brooklets sing and foam, and children, like those of Gains- 
borough's landscapes, frolic in the sun, and the wide air is full of 
fragrance and melody — and these are not texts for any homily, or 
set sermon, but, nevertheless, are all made sweetest teachers of the 
love, and goodness, and glory of God. 

We have dwelt thus long upon Cheever's Pilgrim's Progress and 
Voices of Nature, because .they indicate most truly his mode and 
range of thought. His book on "The Bible in our Common 
Schools" is a clear and logical presentation of the argument in favor 
of the free use of the Scriptures. He delights in expounding laws, 
and in settling vexed questions. He is a kind of gospel Mr. Legality. 
No Mayflower-Puritan ever had a clearer apprehension of principles, 
or applied them more rigorously to life, than he. His most recent 
work, " The Powers of the World to come," shows the depth and 
solemnity of his Christian character, and the sense of personal re- 
sponsibility that accompanies his ministrations. And in all his 



492 GEORGE B. CHEEVEK. 

writings, though you are not dazzled by his brilliancy, nor fired 
by his eloquence, nor subdued by his pathos, you are strengthened 
by his power, and calmed by his tranquillity, and incited to self- 
denying and lofty views, by his earnest and vigorous presentations 
of truth. 

"We subjoin a list of Dr. Cheever's works : 

Published in 

American Common-place Book of Prose, .... 1828 

American Common-place Book of Poetry, .... 1829 

Studies in Poetry, with Biographical Sketches of the Poets, . 1830 

Selections from Archbp. Leighton, with an Introductory Essay, 1832 

God's Hand in America, 1841 

The Argument for Punishment by Death, .... 1842 

Lectures on Pilgrim's Progress,' 1843 

Hierarchical Lectures, 1844 

Wanderings of a Pilgrim in the Shadow of Mont Blanc and the 

YungfrauAlp, 1846 

The Journal of the Pilgrims at Plymouth, .... 1848 

The Hill Difficulty, and other Allegories, .... 1849 

The Windings of the Eiver of the Water of Life, . . . 1849 

Voices of Nature to her Foster Child, the Soul of Man, . . 1852 

Eight of the Bible in our Common Schools, .... 1854 

Lectures on Cowper, 1856 

The Powers of the World to Come, 1856 

Dr. Cheever, in earlier years, was a contributor to the " United 
States Literary Gazette," "The Quarterly Register," and "The New 
Monthly Magazine." He has written articles of great ability for 
"The Biblical Repository," "The New-Englander," "The Biblio- 
theca Sacra," and " The Quarterly Observer." He was a valuable 
correspondent of the " New York Observer" when in Europe, and 
editor of the "New York Evangelist" during 1845 and 1846. He 
is now writing a series of articles for " The Bibliotheca Sacra," on 
the Judgment of the Old Testament against Slavery, which evince 
characteristic argumentation combined with remarkable philological 
investigation. He is a contributor of "The Independent." His 
works have a considerable circulation in England. 




c 



( 6l a/ Sy (7/ ?\ C r. 



ALBERT BARNES, 

THE EXPOSITOK AND PBEACHEK. 



11 Now there are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit. For to one is 
given, by the Spirit, the word of wisdom ; ... to another the interpreta- 
tion of tongues : but all these worketh that one and the self-same Spirit." 



Albert Barnes has been pastor of the First Presbyterian Church 
of Philadelphia during more than one quarter of a century. In these 
days of individuality of tastes, and license in their expression, an indi- 
viduality and a license of which the settled pastor of a people is not 
an exempted subject ; when the bond of union between the shepherd 
and the flock is so slender that any discontented spirit may slip in a 
wedge which will sunder it entirely ; when ordinations are so com- 
mon that they fail to excite solemnity ; when transits of ministers 
are so frequent that the pastor has become the evangelist, and 
home is a word which he understands only by reference to the dic- 
tionary, or to some fond remembrance of early days, scarcely seen in 
the twilight dimness of the distance — in times such as these, it is 
refreshing to rest the mind on a pastorate which has withstood all 
the shocks of time, and now stands serene in the reverence of age. 
The long life of such a connection implies ability and faithfulness 
exercised by the one party, together with appreciation and devotion 
returned by the other. These it implies, although these it does not 
necessarily involve. A pastor may be retained because the " smooth 
things" of his preaching have oiled away all friction between him- 
self and his people ; because of the shiftlessness of a church, which 



49i ALBERT BARNES. 

dreads a change more than it realizes an evil, and prefers a lazy, 
though painful endurance, to an active, though joyous separation . 

"The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, 
But smoke -with wind ; and the rank mists they draw 
Eot inwardly, and foul contagion spread 1" 

But in the present instance the union is built upon the corner-stone c 
of fidelity and gratitude, and it will stand, " for it is founded upon a 
rock." The church of Mr. Barnes love him as their spiritual father, 
as their faithful counsellor, as their trusted guide, as their consoler 
in the hour of sorrow, as their sympathizing friend in life. They 
ever speak of him in terms in which the dignity of respect is mel- 
lowed by the grace of love. 

On the other hand, he has always preached the truth with a bold- 
ness which allows no suspicion of reserve from fear of rousing dis- 
pleasure, and with a tenderness which shows that love for his people, 
and no ambition to display a reckless independence, moves him to 
the utterance of pungent and faithful appeals. Indeed, the manly 
boldness of this minister of truth is worthy of special regard, united 
as it is with an affectionate gentleness, and a discriminating delicacy, 
both of character and manner. Mr. Barnes is independent without 
being self-sufficient, and bold without being dogmatic. TVe think 
that it can be said of him, though it is a great thing to say of any 
man, that he never withholds the expression of what he deems true 
principles, and never disguises well-established opinions, because his 
view of truth, or his opinions, may not harmonize with the views of 
his people or of his party. He is not governed by motives of expe- 
diency, when expediency might seem to forbid the utterance of 
belief. Strength of character and the spirit of a martyr, as well as 
clearness of apprehension and a thorough establishment in one's 
opinions, are required for the open manly utterance of convictions 
of truth, which may offend the prejudices or startle the suspicions of 
friends and associates. But the true man has this to do, and, above 
all, the true preacher cannot recoil from this position. And yet the 
temptations to a surrender of a true independence, which press upon 
our clergy under the " voluntary system," are fearfully great. "When 



BIOGRAPHY. 495 

a man is dependent for his daily bread upon a class, it is hard always 
to regard the interests of the truth as paramount to the wishes of 
that class. And' when respectability and the support of a family 
will also be endangered by the utterance of opinions, it is hard to 
declare them with calm intrepidity. The proverb says, " If you can 
control a man's stomach, you can control the man." " Take note, 
take note, world ! to be direct and honest is not safe." When we 
consider the weight of these temptations, it is noteworthy that the 
clergy of this country are characterized by so much boldness, inde- 
pendence, and faithfulness. Let them be honored, cherished, loved, 
for these traits, and let them be encouraged by the example and the 
experience of their brother, whose pastoral connection, and whose 
boldness for the truth, have, side by side, been growing stronger and 
stronger for twenty-six years. 

The reliance on the truthfulness of his own convictions, rather 
than on the deductions of others, from which this boldness springs, 
was early manifested by Mr. Barnes. In youth he accustomed him- 
self to reflect and examine. His mind was early marked by a 
healthy skepticism, which led to rigid scrutiny of opinion before 
adoption, and to the exercise of his own reason, rather than weak 
dependence upon the conclusions of others. 

Albert Barnes was born at Rome, New York, December 1st, 1798. 
His father was a tanner, and in youth he worked at his father's trade. 
In the retirement of his village home he had leisure for reading, and 
this privilege was faithfully improved. His tastes led to the selec- 
tion of works of a serious and theological character. But the spirit 
of investigation raised him above the confines of a creed. He felt 
free to roam the broad field of truth, and he has always maintained 
this unshackled freedom — searching for himself, deciding for him- 
self, acting for himself, independent of dogmas, until they were com- 
mended to his own unbiased judgment. 

After suitable preparation Mr. Barnes connected himself with 
Hamilton College, joining the senior class, and was graduated in 1820. 

In November, 1820, he entered the Theological Seminary in 
Princeton, New Jersey, where he remained till the summer of 1824, 
passing nearly a year as a resident licentiate, in addition to the reg- 



496 ALBERT BAKNES. 

ular course. He was licensed to preach April 23, 1824, by the 
Presbytery of New Brunswick, and was ordained and installed as 
pastor of the Presbyterian Church in Morristown, New Jersey, the 
8th of February, 1825. 

Previous, however, to this settlement he had a discoura- 
ging experience as a "Candidate." Some small places declined 
to give him a call. He went to Morristown through the in- 
fluence of Judge Gabriel Ford, who, when in attendance on the 
Supreme Court, at Trenton, happened to hear him preach, recog- 
nized the quality of the man, and advised the people of Morris- 
town to give him a trial. They did so, but for several Sabbaths 
he made but little impression ; and it was only by the persuasion 
of Judge Ford that they were induced to extend the term of pro- 
bation. Before he went from Morristown to Philadelphia, six years 
after, the devotion of his people became a proverb; and it was 
said that he could not walk the street without every parishioner run- 
ning to the window, with the exclamation, " There goes our minister, 
Mr. Barnes." 

It was through the instrumentality of Kev. Thomas H. Skinner, 
D.D., of New York, that Mr. Barnes was led to go to Philadelphia. 
Dr. Skinner was travelling for his health, and stopping at Morristown 
for the Sabbath, attended the church of Mr. Barnes. At that time 
the First Presbyterian Church of Philadelphia was seeking a pastor ; 
Rev. James P. Wilson, D.D., who was settled May 1st, 1806, and 
had discharged the duties of his office with zeal and efficiency, 
had been forced to decline further regular service on account of 
broken health. Dr. Skinner, who was pastor of the Arch-street 
Presbyterian Church, had preached somewhat at the First Church, 
as a temporary supply, and knew the requirements of the people. 
Thus, on hearing Mr. Barnes, he was impressed with his adapta- 
tion. At his suggestion a committee was sent to Morristown, who 
heard the pastor, as Dr. Skinner had, incognito, and, what is sin- 
gular, heard the sermon entitled " The Way of Salvation," which 
afterwards made such a sensation throughout the Presbyterian 
Church. The result was that Mr. Barnes received a call, and 
was installed by the Presbytery of Philadelphia, June 25, 1880. 



ARRAIGNMENT FOR HERESY. 497 

This installation, however, was not effected without difficulty and ex- 
citement. The sermon on " The Way of Salvation" had been pub- 
lished at the request of some individuals, and was attacked for contain- 
ing heretical doctrines. This resulted in a protest entered before the 
Presbytery of Philadelphia against his installation, on the ground 
of heresy, which, however, was defeated. But the heresy-hunters, 
though foiled in this first experience, were not less solicitous for the 
integrity of theology; and when Mr. Barnes's "Notes on Komans" 
were published, new occasion was discovered for alarm and difficulty. 
The result was that Mr. Barnes was arraigned for heresy before the 
Presbytery, in 1835, and acquitted; then before the* Synod, by 
which he was condemned, and silenced. For six months this faith- 
ful, godly, successful pastor was shut out of his own pulpit, against 
the wishes of his own people, by a church judicatory professing to 
maintain the Protestant doctrine of the right of private conscience 
in the interpretation of Scripture, for holding to a theological opinion 
differing so slightly and non-essentially from the opinion of his ac- 
cusers as to defy any but a metaphysical mind to discern the differ- 
ence, and on which the orthodox Presbyterian Church continues to 
this day divided, with no very promising prospect of agreement. 
Before the year 2035 this act of the Synod of Philadelphia will be 
considered as more strange and more offensive than the hanging of 
witches two hundred years ago is now regarded. 

Thus did Mr. Barnes with true Christian composure listen to 
ministers from his own pulpit for six months, until an appeal to 
the General Assembly happily resulted in his acquittal. But sad to 
say, his trial before that body resulted in its dismemberment in the 
following year, and the division of the Presbyterian Church into 
the " Old School" and the " New School." That our readers may 
see the theological points which led to all this trouble, we give the 
leading charges. Mr. Barnes was charged with maintaining " that 
faith is an act of the mind, and not a principle, and is itself im- 
puted for righteousness;" with denying "that God entered into 
covenant with Adam, constituting him a federal or covenant head 
and representative to all his natural descendants ;" with denying 
" that the first sin of Adam is imputed to his posterity ;" with 

32 



498 ALBERT BARNES. 

denying " that mankind are liable to punishment on account of the 
sin of Adam ;" with denying " that Christ suffered the proper 
penalty of the law, as the vicarious substitute of his people, and 
thus took away legally their sins, and purchased pardon," &c. 

From the defence of Mr. Barnes, presented before the Second 
Presbytery of Philadelphia, at his trial from June 30, to July 8, 
1835, we make the following extracts, as indicating the spirit 
of the accusers, revealing the temper of the accused, and setting 
forth some of the principles on which the commentaries have been 
prepared : 

" The charges here alleged are ten in number, for erroneous doc- 
trines taught and published in the ' Notes on the Epistle to the 
Komans.' Before proceeding to answer them at length, it may be 
proper to advert to three remarkable circumstances in regard to the 
manner in which they have been brought. 

" The first is, that the prosecutor and the accused belonged to 
different presbyteries, and to different synods. In my own pres- 
bytery I was in good standing, and enjoying, so far as I had, or still 
have any reason to suppose, the confidence of my co-presbyters. I 
was pursuing peacefully the duties of a most arduous pastoral 
charge, requiring all my time and strength ; and indeed exhausting 
the vigor of my life, and rapidly undermining my constitution by 
arduous and incessant duties. I was surrounded by a church per- 
fectly united and harmonious ; having confidence, so far as I know, 
in my ministry, my character, and my orthodoxy. It is not known 
that the voice of complaint had been heard among the people of 
my own charge of any dereliction from the doctrines which had 
been taught in the First Presbyterian Church in the United States, 
for a period of one hundred and thirty years. Charges similar to 
these had been alleged against me — not indeed in a formal and 
regular manner, but in an irregular manner by the Presbytery of 
Philadelphia. Those accusations had been laid before the General 
Assembly, and the highest judicature of the Presbyterian Church 
had fully acquitted me of them. The agitations of that time had 
died somewhat away. I was permitted to return to my labor with 
th.e hope that I might pursue it in peace. 



HIS DEFENCE. 499 

w These charges are substantially of the same nature, and are not 
pretended to be different by the prosecutor himself. In the midst 
of my labors, and my plans for the welfare of my pastoral charge, 
my attention has been arrested, and a demand made on my time, 
and patience, and strength, to answer again substantially the same 
accusations. They are brought by a member of another presbytery, 
and another synod. To Dr. Junkin I had done no injury ; I had 
made no allusion. His opinions I had not attacked ; nor in the 
book on which these charges are based, have I made the remotest 
allusion to him, or his doctrines. I admit indeed the right of any 
minister of the Presbyterian Church to bring charges of heresy or im- 
morality against any other minister ; but the question instinctively 
arises, in looking at the circumstances of this case, Why should 
Dr, Junkin feel himself called on to stand forth as the defender of 
orthodoxy, and as the accuser of his brethren ? Why should the 
president of a literary institution feel himself called on to bring 
solemn and grave charges of error against a pastor in another pres- 
bytery ? Why should he feel it to be his duty to excite suspicion, 
and disturb the peace of a church of Christ, and unsettle their con- 
fidence in their pastor, and allege charges fitted, and designed 
doubtless, to depose him from the ministry — to blast his good name, 
and arrest his schemes of labor, and put a period to the little good 
which he might be doing \ Why should he be the man to tear 
open old wounds scarcely healed, and raise again the cry of alarm- 
ing heresy, fast dying away, and throw the Christian community 
again into agitation ? There may possibly be • such an eminence of 
talent, learning, piety, eloquence, as to constitute a man a guardian 
of the orthodoxy and the peace of the churches. But it is a very 
material question, whether it is wise for a man to put forth any 
thing which can be construed into any such claim of ecclesiastical 
pre-eminence and guardianship. On any consideration of this 
subject, it is not easy to see why the president of Lafayette College 
should have felt himself called on to allege these charges. 

"A second circumstance that is remarkable is, the manner in 
which these charges have been brought. * * * * 

" A third circumstance, not less remarkable, is, that even when 



500 ALBEKT BARSTES. 

the charges had been brought, no charge of crime was alleged, nor 
even of heresy. * * • * * % * 

" The Notes on the Epistle to the Romans, against which these 
charges are alleged, were written in pursuance of a plan formed 
several years since. That plan was, to prepare a brief explanation 
of the New Testament in a style and manner adapted to popu- 
lar use, and especially to the wants of Bible Classes and Sabbath 
Schools. The want of such a book was everywhere deeply felt, 
and it became apparent that this want must, from some quarter, be 
supplied. The demand was supposed to be, not of a work deeply 
learned and profound ; not stating the critical process by which the 
meaning of the Sacred Scriptures is arrived at, but the results of 
such an investigation ; and such heads of practical remarks as 
might furnish topics of useful illustration to be enlarged on at 
pleasure by instructors in Sunday Schools and Bible Classes. A 
part of that plan was executed in the publication of ' Notes on the 
Gospels ;' and although I felt deeply that there were many defects 
in the execution, yet the consciousness that such a work was de- 
manded, that I might be contributing in some degree to form the 
views of the rising generation to just views of the oracles of God, 
encouraged .me in my work. Amidst the anxious cares and re- 
sponsibilities of an important pastoral charge, the work was pre- 
pared for the press ; and the favorable reception of that portion of 
the work by the Christian public, favorable beyond my most san- 
guine expectations, showed how much, such a work was demanded, 
and how ready the Christian churches were to avail themselves of 
any effort, however humble, to diffuse just views of the interpreta- 
tion of the New Testament. 

" The Notes on the Epistle to the Romans are a part of the same 
general plan, and having the same design. Their character is 
varied only as the nature of the subject is varied, and as the diffi- 
culties of the book required a somewhat more labored exposition. 
The fact, also, that, as supposed, some important erroneous views 
had prevailed respecting the true interpretation of the epistle, that 
it had been explained under the influence of erroneous philosophical 
opinions, required additional labor to remove the influence of that 



HIS DEFENCE. * 501 

philosophy, to leave, if possible, nothing but the simple sense of the 
inspired writer. The primary design was not to attack any system 
of philosophy or religion, but to arrive at the simple doctrines of 
the apostle — an object which necessarily led to some of the state- 
ments in reference to which these charges are brought. 

" In preparing the notes, which have given occasion to these 
charges of heresy, I was not. ignorant that the exposition of the 
epistle was attended with great difficulty. It was known that this 
epistle had been regarded as the great arena of controversy, and 
that many different modes of interpretation had been proposed and 
defended with great zeal by their respective advocates. The reasons 
of this variety of interpretation, I have endeavored to state in the 
introduction to the 'Notes,' (pp. ix. x.) 

" I am not conscious of being so obstinately attached to the ex- 
position which I have adopted as to be unwilling to be convinced of 
error, and if convinced, to abandon the sentiments which I have ex- 
pressed. Whether the mode that will be most likely to secure a 
change of opinion, is that of arraigning me for the high misdemea- 
nor of heresy, is the Christian mode, and the most desirable to secure 
such a result, I shall not now take upon myself to inquire. I may just 
be permitted to say, that it is not the use of hard names, and the 
language of reproach, that will secure the result. In this land, and 
in these times', a change of opinion is to be effected not by the lan- 
guage of authority, not by an appeal to the fathers, not by calling 
on us simply to listen to the voice of other times — however venera- 
ble and desirable such a deference may be in its place — but by the 
sober and solid exposition of the oracles of God. Men, even in 
error, listen respectfully to those who attempt to reason with them, 
and to convince them that they are wrong ; they turn instinctively 
away when denunciation takes the place of argument, and the 
cry of heresy is the substitute for a sober appeal to the under- 
standing. 

" As the discussion in which we are now engaged is one that 
may deeply affect my character, and my ministry, and still more as 
it may have a material bearing on the prevalence of truth, I may be 
permitted to state a little more fully the principles of interpretation 



502 ALBERT BARNES. 

in which I have written these notes. These principles are stated in 
a summary manner in the preface : 

" ' The design has been to state, with as much brevity and sim- 
plicity as possible, the real meaning of the sacred writer ; rather the 
results of critical inquiry, as far as the author had the ability and 
time to pursue it, than the process by which these results were 
reached. The design has been to state what appeared to the author 
to be the real meaning of the epistle, without any regard to any ex- 
isting theological system; and without any deference to the opinions 
of others, further than the respectful deference and candid examina- 
tion, which are due to the opinions of the learned, the wise, and the 
good who have made this epistle their particular study/ 

" It was, further, my intention, in preparing those notes, not to be 
influenced in the interpretation by a regard to any creed, or con- 
fession of faith, whatever. I make this frank avowal, because it is 
the deliberate and settled purpose of my mind ; and because it is 
the principle by which I expect always to be governed. I therefore 
state, that, in preparing these notes, I have never had the Westmin- 
ster confession of faith before me, nor any other confession ; I have 
never framed a sentence, to the best of my recollection, with any 
design that it should be conformed to the doctrines of any confession 
of faith ; nor have I ever framed a sentence with any desire or in- 
tention that it should in any way depart from any such confession, 
I have not made any such confession of faith the rule of interpreta- 
tion ; but have all along endeavored to ascertain, if I could, what 
was the mind of the Spirit of inspiration. That from this rule I 
have never unconsciously departed, would be to assume a freedom 
from bias, and from the prejudice of opinion, to which I by no 
means lay claim, and which would be more than human. That I 
am exempt from the secret influence of long-cherished opinions, 
would be to lay claim to what my knowledge of human nature for- 
bids me to think possible ; and which would be abundantly refuted 
and rebuked by what I know of the proneness of my own mind to 
err. I speak now of the rule ; not of the conscious imperfection of 
the execution. My meaning is, that I regard the Bible, with the 
usual auxiliary helps arising from philology, criticism, archaeology, 



HIS DEFENCE. 503 

history, and the principles of common sense, in explaining language, 
as designed to be interpreted, without any aid to be drawn from any 
previously cherished opinions of men. I mean that the mould should 
not be first formed, and then the system run into it ; that the masses 
of truth of the Sacred Scriptures should not be chiselled to make 
them conform to any previously cherished views of what the model 
of truth should be. 

u It is not necessary, I presume, to say any thing in defence of 
this principle of interpretation. It is the common, the universal 
principle, laid down in the books ; and, I doubt not, the principle 
acted on as honestly by those who differ from me in opinion, as by 
myself. No man can be qualified to be an interpreter of the Bible, 
or of any other book, except as he endeavors to act on this simple 
and obvious rule. Neither by authority, by tradition, nor by the 
apprehension of heresy, is a man to be deterred from the application 
of this principle ; and the moment a different rule is acted on, in 
fact or in form, that moment the authority of the Bible, as the ori- 
ginal fountain of truth, as ' the only infallible rule of faith and prac- 
tice,' ceases. 

u I may here be permitted to state, that I am no enemy of creeds 
and confessions of faith. Never have I penned a sentence against 
them ; and no man has ever heard me speak in their disparagement, 
or condemnation. In my humble way, and whenever an opportunity 
has been presented, I have advocated their use. I have regarded 
them as not inconsistent with the spirit of the New Testament ; as 
of value to express the agreement of Christians organized into the 
same body ; to acquaint the world with their sense of the doctrines 
of the Scriptures, and to apprise others of the opinions which they 
will be expected to hold, if they become members of that commun- 
ion ; as in fact existing in all churches, either in a written or un- 
written form ; and as of service in aiding in the defence and exten- 
sion of the truth. 

" In the exposition of this epistle, I have made it an object to 
avoid the use of some technical words which have been long em- 
ployed in theology, and which have usually been deemed valuable 
in the interpretation of the epistle to the Romans. And it is to be 



504 ALBERT BAENES. 

presumed, as I shall endeavor to show, that no small part of the 
charges of error and heresy which have been made against the book, 
have arisen from this circumstance. Had I retained language which 
lias been almost consecrated for ages in the exposition of the epistle, 
it is to be presumed that the voice of alarm would not have been 
heard, and that these charges would have never been brought 
against me. 

" The question which this presbytery is now called on to decide, 
is, whether the views which are expressed in these Notes are any 
longer to be tolerated in the Presbyterian Church in the United 
States : whether a man who held them at the time of his licensure 
and ordination ; who has held and preached them for ten years ; 
and who holds them in common with no small part of the more 
than two thousand ministers in our connection, is to be allowed 
peaceably to hold them still, and to labor, under the influence of 
these views, in endeavoring to save souls : or whether he is to be 
pronounced heretical and unsound ; his character to be ruined, so 
far as a decision of his brethren can ruin it ; himself to be harassed 
in his feelings, and embarrassed in his preaching; and the large 
number of ministers, and elders, and communicants in the churches 
who hold the same views, declared to be unworthy an office, a name, 
and a place in the Church of God." 

To this presentation we will only add, that the self-control, calm- 
ness, and dignity of Mr. Barnes, through the trial, will never cease 
to be the subject of happy comment by his friends, and a noble 
example to all who may be called to a similar experience. 

"As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing ; 
A man, that fortune's buffets and rewards 
Hast ta'en with equal thanks : and bless' d are those 
Whose blood and judgment are so well co-mingled, 
That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger 
To sound what stop she please. Give me that man 
That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him 
In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of hearts." 

Mr. Barnes is a man of a universal integrity, a man who is honest 
with his people, honest with himself, honest with his God. He has 



HIS LOVE OF TRUTH. 505 

that noble form of honesty which recognizes truth even when " trod- 
den under foot of men." He can neither stoop to artifice, nor tamper 
with policy, nor hold converse with expediency. He has a compre- 
hensive view of truth. He recognizes and acknowledges two sides, 
nay, a dozen sides, if there be so many. He is ready to give ear to 
a novel proposition, weighing its claims candidly, deciding upon its 
merits dispassionately. It is the truth he must have; not the up- 
building of his own sect, nor the propping up of early prejudices. 
He stands on the higher ground that overlooks all the barricades of 
party, recognizing the Right wherever it exists, and honoring the 
true-hearted wherever they may stand. His heart is open to the 
sorrows of the unfortunate, and his ear attentive to the calls of the 
needy. He sees much sin and suffering and degradation in the 
world, and he would do his part to remove them and leave the 
world better than he found it. He is an earnest tip-builder of social 
and moral reform. His voice has been eloquent in behalf of tem- 
perance, and oppression has been denounced by his manly tones. 
His work, entitled "An Enquiry into the Scriptural Views of Slavery," 
deserves special mention. The appeals to the Bible in defence of 
slavery were some of the causes which led to its preparation. " Be- 
lieving," he says, " that the spirit of the Bible is against slavery, and 
that all the arguments alleged in favor of it from the Bible are the 
result of a misunderstanding of its true spirit, and that the honor of 
religion demands that that argument should be placed fairly before 
the world, I was desirous of doing what I could to make the teach- 
ings of the Bible seen and appreciated by my fellow-men." He 
believed also that there were large numbers at the South who would 
examine with candor an argument proposed on the subject. His 
remarks on this point, and in comparison of the North and South as 
to freedom and candor, may be read and pondered with great bene- 
fit. He apprehends there are many at the South who exhibit a 
degree of candor, in speaking of the curse of slavery, which we do 
not always find in those portions of our country in which slavery 
does not exist. " There is a hesitancy at the North in speaking of 
it as an evil ; a desire to apologize for it, and even to defend it as 
a Scriptural institution, which by no means meets the conviction of 



506 ALBEET BAENES. 

the great body of men at the South, and for which they do not thank 
us. They regard slavery as an unmixed evil — as the direst calamity 
of their portions of the republic. They consider it to be contrary to 
the spirit of the Bible. They look upon it as a curse in the midst 
of which they were bom ; an evil entailed upon them without their 
consent, and which they desire above all things to get rid of. They 
remember with little gratitude the laws and cupidity of the mother 
country by which it was imposed upon them, and the Northern 
ships by which the inhabitants of Africa were conveyed to their 
shores ; and . they little thank the professors in theological semi- 
naries, and the> pastors of the churches, and the editors of papers, and 
the ecclesiastical bodies at the North, who labor to convince the 
world that it is not an evil, and that it is one of the designs and 
tendencies of Christianity to rivet the curse on them forever. Such 
men ask for no defence of slavery from the North. They look for 
a more manly voice — for more decided tones in behalf of freedom, 
from those whom God has favored with the entire blessings of 
liberty, and they ask of us that we will aid them to free themselves 
from a burden imposed on them by the joint wickedness and cu- 
pidity of our Fatherland and the North ; not that we will engage 
in the miserable business of attempting to convince the world that 
the South must always groan under this malediction, and that even 
the influence of Christianity will be only to make the evil there 
eternal. There have been more published defences of slavery from 
the Bible at the North, than there have been at the South. A 
Christian man can look with some respect on a defence of slavery 
at the South, for they who are there live in the midst of it, and it is 
natural for us to love and defend the institutions in the midst of 
which we were born; but what respect can we have for such a 
defence emanating from the North ?" 

The question, Mr. Barnes says in his Introduction, is simply 
whether slavery, as it exists in the United States, is or is not in 
accordance with the principles and the spirit of Christianity. We 
are to investigate it as it exists, not as it might possibly exist. 

In his first chapter he quotes from the Southern Quarterly Review 
an acknowledgment that the Bible must decide as to the sinfulness 



HIS " VIEWS OF SLAVERY." 507 

of slavery, and if condemned by Divine Revelation, then it must 
cease to exist. " It is the duty of every man, making the laws of 
God the rule of his conduct, to use all practicable efforts to abolish 
whatever violates them." And he insists on the necessity of this 
investigation, as Avell for the large part of the world where slavery 
is wanting as for that where it is prevalent. "For if slavery be in 
accordance with the principles of the Bible, and be the best thing 
for society, there is then an increasingly large part of the world that 
is neglecting to avail itself of the advantages which might be derived 
from the institution, and that is falling into dangerous error on a 
great question of morals ; for there can be no doubt that there is a 
growing conviction in the world that the institution is not one which 
it is desirable to perpetuate for promoting the welfare of mankind." 

The book is written with characteristic impartiality, calmness, 
and thoroughness. As Dr. Cheever says of it, " It is a book of calm 
and gentle words but very hard arguments." 

And in this very fact, that Mr. Barnes is thus honest and thorough, 
lies the secret of his calmness and charity. For none are so respectful 
to the opinions of others as those who have conscientiously investigated 
the grounds of their own. And they who have valued truth more 
than sect or the world's opinion, and who, with all the imperfections 
of nature, have struggled up into what they hope is the true sunlight, 
if they have learned any one lesson, have learned this, that erring 
men are at best but imperfect judges of the motives and opinions of 
their fellows ; that where there is so much uncertainty, others may 
be right, and, whether right or not, they may be honest. They 
have least charity who need it most ; for often they are most opin- 
ionnted who receive opinions upon trust, and who make up for lack 
of honest and deep conviction by the violence of their arguments, 
and the bitterness of their sectarian feeling. By charity we do not 
understand indifference to truth — an admission of the principle, that 
it matters not what men believe provided they be sincere. We 
mean by charity an admission of the principle that Truth is many- 
sided ; that no man can expect to embrace all the truth ; that our 
beliefs are but partialisms ; that although one belief is true, a dif- 
ferent belief is not necessarily false ; that the best religion is that 



508 ALBERT BARNES. 

which makes the best man ; and as a resultant of these convictions, 
a willingness to love and to labor with all who love the Lord Jesns 
in sincerity, and an unwillingness to treat any brother-man with 
coldness or distrust, because he differs in opinion. And to any one 
feeling thus, there will be shown by others the same charity he 
himself shows ; and his life, instead of being a gladiatorship for 
sect and party, shall be a life of sympathy and love for all mankind. 

TVe regard Mr. Barnes as having manifested a true heroism 
through all his life. He manifested the calm courage of the hero 
through all the trials for heresy. He has shown the self-ignoring 
intrepidity of the hero in his maintenance of temperance and anti- 
slavery principles. And in the sorrow of broken plans, by the im- 
pairing of eyesight, he has shown the hero's uncomplaining forti- 
tude. We do not fear to quote Emerson's fine description in con- 
nection with his name : 

" The characteristic of heroism is its persistency. All men have 
wandering impulses — fits and starts of generosity. But when you 
have chosen your part, abide by it, and do not weakly try to recon- 
cile yourself to the world. The heroic cannot be the common, nor 
the common the heroic. Yet we have the weakness to expect the 
sympathy of people in those actions whose excellence is that they 
outrun sympathy, and appeal to a tardy justice. 

" Times of heroism are generally times of terror ; but the day 
never shines in which this element may not work. The circumstan- 
ces of man, we say, are historically somewhat better in this coun- 
try, and at this hour, than, perhaps, ever before. More freedom ex- 
ists for culture. It will not now run against an axe at the first step 
out of the beaten track of opinion. But whoso is heroic will always 
find crises to try his edge. Human virtue demands her champions 
and martyrs, and the trial of persecution always proceeds. 

" There is somewhat in great actions which does not allow us to 
go behind them. Heroism feels, and never reasons, and, therefore, 
is always right. Heroism works in contradiction to the voice of 
mankind, and in contradiction for a time to the voice of the great 
and good. Heroism is an obedience to a secret impulse of an indi- 
vidual's character. 



HIS CHARACTER. 509 

" Self-trust is the essence of heroism. It is the state of the soul 
at war ; and its ultimate objects are the last defiance of falsehood 
and wrong, and the power to bear all that can be inflicted by evil 
agents. It speaks the truth, and it is just, generous, hospitable, 
temperate, scornful of petty calculations, and scornful of being 
scorned. It persists ; it is of an undaunted boldness, and of a for- 
titude not to be wearied out" 

Mr, Barnes's mind is eminently analytic. He penetrates the mass 
of a subject and comprehends it in all its bearings. Naturally a 
questioner and a skeptic, he notes every difficulty and objection ; and 
what he sees he sees clearly, and makes it clear to others. He rea- 
sons on the Baconian method, by a broad induction and generaliza- 
tion of facts, and is entirely free from sentimentalism. His charac- 
ter is very symmetrical. He has neither eccentricities for our re- 
gret, nor weaknesses for our pity. His moral sense is high, his con- 
science true and tender. He adheres inflexibly to his principles, as 
has already been shown. He is very retiring in disposition, except 
among those with whom he is well acquainted. It is hard to ap- 
proach him, on account of his natural diffidence and shyness. He 
has not animal courage, but his moral courage is great. His aver- 
sion to being conspicuous, and his studious habits, have prevented 
him from mingling much with men ; and when he does so, his dis- 
tant manners do injustice to his genial, sympathetic heart. When 
lie has made friends, and has confidence in them, his attachment is 
deep and lasting. From his calm, literal way of looking at things, 
this life is to him a stern reality, in whose uncertain brightness he 
dwells less than in its shade. His Christian character is, of course, 
modified by his temperament and organization. He is remarkably 
consistent, and devout and trustful, but is free from impulse, and 
betrays little emotion. 

Mr. Barnes has always been a close student. He is familiar with 
the original languages of the Scriptures, and with German ; is well 
read in philosophy, history, and geology, and, in preaching, often 
draws arguments and -illustrations from the natural sciences. In his 
sermons, he takes a broad subject, dividing and subdividing it, and 
closing with a series of practical remarks. Having carefully pre- 



510 ALBERT BARNES. 

pared a brief beforehand, he now uses no notes in preaching. As 
might be supposed, from the cast of his mind, he is inclined to be 
doctrinal. He is fond of preaching courses of sermons, not horta- 
tory, but instructive, elevating, and solemnizing. In the pulpit, his 
manner is quiet and timid, so that he appears like a stranger before 
his own people. He makes few gestures, rarely raising his hand 
more than once or twice during a whole discourse. His voice is 
well modulated, and he speaks calmly and distinctly, so as to be heard 
all over the house. When he commences, it is as if he were talk- 
ing, so quiet and unimpassioned does he seem; but as his sub- 
ject unfolds, he gathers energy, and speaks with more emphasis 
and fullness of tone. Yet he never rises to declamation ; it is only 
the truth he utters that gives him warmth and earnestness. As a 
further illustration of his pulpit style and manner, we quote the fol- 
lowing description by Rev. Dr. Brainard, of Philadelphia : 

" To furnish a graphic picture of Mr. Barnes as a pulpit orator is 
no easy task. It is less difficult to sketch the cataract, with its jut- 
ting rocks, its rushing floods, and its fleecy vapor, than to portray 
the tranquil stream, which absorbs the pure rivulets of a hundred 
hills, and bears them, in a deep, wide, and fertilizing river, between 
banks of living green, to the bosom of the sea. Strangers, attracted 
by the high reputation of Mr. Barnes, are generally at first disap- 
pointed. They have gained their impressions of pulpit eloquence 
from men of an entirely opposite cast of mind and manner. Mr. 
Barnes aims to exhibit no studied and graceful attitudes in the 
sacred desk; he displays no waving hand of lily whiteness; he 
calls up no expression of the eye and countenance for mere effect ; he 
practices no melodious undulations of voice to serve as a kind of in- 
terlude to his arguments ; he excites no admiration by rhetorical 
starts and abrupt exclamations ; he never affects pathos, nor describes 
coruscating gyrations in the regions of fancy, that he may please 
by exciting the passions, and display the buoyant pinions of his own 
imagination. He enters the sanctuary with an humble and subdued 
air, and ascends the pulpit with an apparent unconsciousness that he 
is in the presence of a congregation. While waiting the hour of 
service he sits with his head leaned upon his hand, his eyes either 



DESCRIPTION BY REV. DR. BRAINARD. 511 

depressed or closed, and the whole expression of his countenance 
marking one disposed to take a low place before God and man. In 
the reading of the Bible, in prayer, and in preaching, all his efforts 
are marked by a careful propriety of language, a dignified simplicity, 
and a controlled and solemn earnestness. His eyes rest upon the 
Bible, except at infrequent intervals, when they take a searching 
glance at the audience. The same elaborate research, the same 
clear apprehension and statement, the same purity, elevation, and 
strength of language, the same felicity of illustration, which have 
commended the theological works of Mr. Barnes to public favor, 
characterize his ministrations. For himself he seems to ask nothing. 
Chiefly solicitous to magnify his Master and give force to important 
truths, he develops just that simplicity and sincerity of manner which 
ought to characterize such a man." 

Mr. Barnes's Commentaries are intended for all classes of people ; 
hence they are not lumbered with grammatical and philological 
disquisitions upon the words of the original languages, which com- 
mon readers would not understand. They meet all difficulties fairly, 
candidly acknowledging those which are inexplicable. Of his Com- 
mentary on Isaiah he once said, " This is the pet book of all my 
productions." His published essays, sermons, and addresses are 
lucid, well-reasoned, and on subjects of practical importance. They 
are written in a smooth and finished style, and often with consider- 
able illustration. We may remark that his books are made out 
of materials originally accumulated for pulpit preparations. 

Although not pre-eminent for the amount of his pastoral labor, no 
man has a greater influence. over his people than Mr. Barnes. He is 
so discreet and wise that a few words from him are very effective ; and 
so cautious, just, and infrequent in his demands, that when he does 
make a request, his wishes are always granted. If he says a certain 
amount of money ought to be raised for a benevolent object, his 
people know it must be done, and do it. They consider him a 
model minister, and are, doubtless, stimulated in their devotion to 
him by their pride in his reputation. 

His influence over his own denomination is as great as that of 
any other preacher. Ardently attached to his own branch of the 



512 ALBERT BARNES. 

Church, he gives largely, both of energies and means, to carry on its 
operations, yet shrinks from a personal conspicuousness in them. He 
rarely attends its General Assembly ; but being a commissioner, 
when it met at Utica, he was made moderator by acclamation. He 
is greatly respected by all classes of the community where he dwells 
for having set an example of an upright, devout, able, and almost 
faultless minister of the Gospel. Whoever writes his biography will 
be able to say of him, as Carlyle says of Sterling : " In clear and 
perfect fidelity to Truth, wherever found, in child-like and soldier- 
like, pious and valiant loyalty to the Highest, and what of good 
and evil that might send him, he excelled among men. The joys 
and the sorrows of his lot he took with true simplicity and acquies- 
cence. Like a true son, not like a miserable, mutinous rebel, he com- 
ported himself in this universe. Extremity of distress — and surely 
his temper had enough of contradiction in this world — could not 
tempt him into impatience at any time. By no chance did you ever 
hear from him. a whisper of those mean repinings, miserable arraign- 
ings and questionings of the Eternal Power, such as weak souls, 
even well disposed, will sometimes give way to in the pressure of 
their despair. To the like of this he never yielded, or showed the 
least tendency to yield, which, surely, was well enough on his part ; 
for the Eternal Power, I still remark, will not answer the like of 
this, but silently and terribly accounts it impious, blasphemous, and 
damnable, and now, as heretofore, will visit it as such. Not a rebel, 
but a son, I said, willing to suffer when Heaven said, Thou shalt ; 
and withal, what is perhaps rarer in such a combination, willing to 
rejoice also, and right cheerily taking the good that was sent, when- 
soever or in whatever form it came. He was good, and generous, 
and true ; joyful where there was joy, patient and silent where en- 
durance was required of him; shook innumerable sorrows, and 
thick-crowding forms of pain, gallantly away from him; faced 
frankly forward, and with scrupulous care to tread on no one's 
toes. True, above all, one may call him — a man of perfect veracity 
in thought, word, and deed. Integrity towards all men, nay, in- 
tegrity in him had ripened into chivalrous generosity : there was 
no guile or baseness anywhere found in him. Transparent as 



HIS WORKS. 513 

crystal, he could not hide any thing sinister, if such there had been 
to hide. A more perfectly transparent soul I have never known." 

Mr. Barnes has the habits of a recluse. He is very methodical ; 
and, when a student, was exact in all his plans, every hour being set 
apart to some duty. When he received a letter, he fixed the date 
of its reply, and at the appointed time answered it. He has been 
accustomed to rise in the morning and retire at night by the watch ; 
and having excellent health, and a temperament the opposite of ner- 
vous, he has been able to perform much more than ordinary labor. 
Accustomed to rise at four o'clock to commence his studies, he began 
by examining all other commentaries, which lay open, on a long 
inclined standing desk, at the verse which he had in hand. Along 
this extent of volumes he marked and noted desirable particulars, then 
clearly arranged his own reflections, and sat down to write the result. 
His early hours once brought him into trouble. He was arrested 
one morning at four o'clock as he was opening the iron gate of his 
church to go to his study, by a watchman who supposed him to be 
a burglar. 

Mr. Barnes has not sought money, but it has come to him from 
his published works till he has secured a competence. He has a 
large income constantly from his books, of which he gives liber- 
ally to benevolent objects. About three years ago he purchased 
an acre of ground in West Philadelphia, and built himself a neat 
and commodious house. It is two miles or more from his church, 
and he rides in to all his services. Some five years ago his eyes 
began to fail ; his morning studies by gas-light having injured them. 
He went to Europe, his congregation paying his expenses, hoping 
they might be benefited ; but he derived no essential improvement 
from the journey. He has been obliged to relinquish his studies. 
This was a great trial to him, as he was in the midst of a Commen- 
tary on the Psalms, and was intending to publish a System of Di- 
vinity and a work on the Atonement. He is very fond of gardening ; 
and his unassuming character is seen in the reply he made to the 
question as to what he would do if forced to give up books alto- 
gether. " Oh !" said he, " I shall occupy myself raising potatoes." 

Up to this date, March 2 2d, 1856, his "Notes on the New Tes- 

33 



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